


Kinktober 2020

by KassieProphet



Series: Ghost Prompts [51]
Category: Ghost (Sweden Band)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bad Dirty Talk, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Character Death, Choking, Coercion, Consensual Somnophilia, Creampie, Cuckolding, Cunnilingus, D/s, Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Exhibitionism, F/M, Face-Fucking, Face-Sitting, Fluff, Forced Orgasm, Frottage, Gags, Heavy Angst, Humiliation, Knotting, M/M, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Nipple Clamps, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, POV Female Character, Paddling, Praise Kink, Prostate Massage, Reader-Insert, Restraints, Ritual Blood, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Sensory Deprivation, Size Kink, Spanking, Threesome, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex, Voyeurism, consensual degradation, copia is unrelated, pyrophilia, ruined orgasm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-31
Packaged: 2021-03-08 04:08:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 31,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26789473
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KassieProphet/pseuds/KassieProphet
Summary: Kinktober Prompts by@lustyargonianmaid
Relationships: Aether | Quintessence Ghoul/Reader, Cardinal Copia/Papa Emeritus II, Cardinal Copia/Reader, Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul/Mary Goore/Reader, Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul/Multi Ghoul | Swiss Army Ghoul/Mary Goore, Dewdrop Ghoul | Fire Ghoul/Reader, Mary Goore/Reader, Mountain | Earth Ghoul/Rain | Water Ghoul, Mountain | Earth Ghoul/Reader, Multi Ghoul | Swiss Army Ghoul/Rain | Water Ghoul/Mountain | Earth Ghoul, Multi Ghoul | Swiss Army Ghoul/Reader, Papa Emeritus I/Reader, Papa Emeritus II/Sister(s) of SIn, Papa Emeritus III/Reader, Papa Emeritus IV/Reader, Papa Emeritus/Reader, Rain | Water Ghoul/Reader
Series: Ghost Prompts [51]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1536134
Comments: 379
Kudos: 117





	1. Mutual Masturbation – Papa 1 x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> I will also note which tags go with which prompt in each A/N
> 
> Updates every 5 days.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mutual Masturbation – Papa 1 x Reader
> 
> You and Papa get up to some fun under the sheets.

You’re so happy to have your Papa home. He’s been gone for a Very Important Conference for two weeks now, and you miss the smell of him on you. You put on your lace garter and matching bottoms before climbing underneath the feather comforter of his bed. He’s not as extravagant as his brothers, but Primo likes to be comfortable. 

It’s not long before you hear him shuffle into his bed chambers as he mutters under his breath in Italian.

“Papa?” you cry out softly, and he stops.

“That is you, succulent?”

“Come to bed, Papa.”

“As you command it.”

He still needs to disrobe all of his formal vestments and wash off his skull paint, but he doesn’t tarry; soon, he’s in his nightgown and crawling into bed with you. It isn’t until he’s settled and pulling you close that his hands slide over the lace.

“Oh, hello.” His hands start to trace the lines with intent. “This, it is for me?”

“Missed you, Papa,” you murmur into his neck.

His hand moves to your crotch, and he lets out a pleased hum when he encounters your arousal. He moves one of your hands in between his legs, and you can feel that he’s half hard.

“The feeling, it is mutual,  _ dulce _ .”

As you work to ruck up his nightgown, Papa’s hand is quick to unfasten the loop-and-button clips of your garter so that he has unimpeded access to you. However, you’re faster, and his breath hitches as you wrap your hand around his length.

“ _ Così dolce _ !” he moans, and then his hand is plunging under the fabric to touch  _ you _ .

“Oh yes, Papa. That feels so good. Yes, right  _ there _ .”

As you’re babbling at him, you’re stroking his shaft and pressing your thumb into the sweet spot at the base of his cockhead. His mouth finds yours, and you’re happy to allow him access to suck on your tongue. Your chests press together, and your legs tangle together. The two of you work in tandem—knuckles grazing, hands in fervent motion—to bring each other to sweet climax. His moans answer yours as you each speed up to the rate of your arousal.

You’re good, but Papa is better: he’s had decades of practice in pleasuring his partners, and—despite wanting to feel Papa’s dick twitch and his sticky release on your fingers as you cum—his clever fingers have you tipping over the edge before he’s even desperate for his climax. You jerk and twitch as you orgasm, crying out Papa’s name as you grind into him.

After you come down—sated and warm—you pause for only a second before you’re squeezing and stroking Papa’s hardness again. Having accomplished his goal, he rolls onto his back so he can watch as the shiny, pink head of his cock disappears again and again into your fist.

“Yes, my succulent. So good,  _ così buono _ !”

Just because Papa has more experience doesn’t mean you don’t have your own arsenal of tricks, and within no time you have him trembling and tensing, a fresh sheen of sweat on his bare brow. You know he’s going to cum when his one hand shoots out to clasp in your free one, so you speed up to an unsustainable pace; in a few seconds more, his back bows before he’s moaning and grunting in time to the spurts of cum that are shooting out of his twitching cock.

He’s still panting when his head turns and his hooded eyes look up to you, so you bring your hand up to your mouth and slowly lick his cum with long laps. His eyes roll back into his head—his softening dick giving an interested kick—and he moans as he squeezes your hand.

“Mercy on an old man,  _ per favore _ .”

You snort. “I know you can keep up, ‘old man’.”

His eyes snap open.

“It is not nice to goad the jet lagged.”

“My apologies, Papa,” you say with a smirk.

“Fetch a washcloth, hmm? Tomorrow we shall be seeing who can ‘keep up’.”


	2. Dirty Talk – Aether x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dirty Talk – Aether x F!Reader
> 
> You and Aether have some filthy words to exchange.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirty Talk  
> Facesitting

“Fuck. Your curves are so delectable. I just wanna sink my teeth into you and leave my bite marks all over you. Bet you’d like that, huh? Bet you’d show my marks off, let everyone know who you belong to? Yeah, I can tell you like that. Look at you trembling for me. Do you want me to touch you? Do you want to feel my clever fingers on you? Well, all in good time, baby. First you’re going to suck me, and then I’m gonna make a mess of that pretty face of yours.”

Two dark circles stand out starkly on Aether’s cheeks as he looks up at you from under his lashes. 

“O-okay. I, um. Can’t wait to taste you.”

You grab him by the horns.

“You’re gonna do more than just taste me, hunny—you’re going to eat me.”

Aether licks his lips, his enormous hands digging into your thighs, as he takes in your expanse of bare skin.

“You’re such a-a … a s-slut for it.”

He bites the corner of his lip as you let out a pleased rumble.

“Yeah, I’m your little fuck slut. I bet you can’t wait to get that fat cock of yours into my tight pussy.”

Aether’s hips twitch.

“I can’t. I know you’ll feel so good around me. Around my dick.”

“But first you’re gonna get that warm, wiggly tongue in me. You better lick my clit so good that I grease your chin with my slick. You better drink down my pussy juice before I let it dribble all over your cock.”

Aether blushes again, but his hands slide up your thighs.

“Fuck, bunny—I’m gonna … uh … slurp you up.”

Circling your hips, you purr, “Damn fucking right you’re going to slurp me up. Wanna feel that warm tongue in me, licking out the cream.” You stick out your tongue and curl it lewdly.

Aether rumbles and digs his hands into your love handles, the tips of his claws poking into you slightly.

“Wanna make you get sweet in my mouth.”

“Suck my clit right, and I’ll flood your mouth with my sweet nectar.”

Leaning down, you mash your tits in his face, and he groans before sucking a nipple in between his lips, his tongue then swirling around your bud.

“Oh shit—that’s right, baby. Yeah, fuck. That’s an A+ on technique.” You let him switch to the other nipple. You’re beginning to get wet, so you mash your cunt down on his chest to smear your slick all over him. “You feel that, hunny? Feel how wet you make me?”

He growls as his hands move down to grab the meat of your ass, and you ride him as he rolls his hips in an attempt to search for a pressure that’s not there.

When you straighten back up, Aether’s mouth tries to follow you, but you grab his chin.

“You ready to open wide and be filled with ambrosia?”

The hands on your ass push you forward towards his face, and you gasp in delight. Aether looks up at up with dilated eyes, and his lips part to show his sharp teeth.

“If you don’t let me eat you  _ right now _ , I’m going to fill that cunt of yours with a different kind of cream. Now fucking sit on my face already.”


	3. Dom/Sub – Rain x Mountain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dom/Sub – Rain x Mountain
> 
> Rainy take Mountain out for a ride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> D/s  
> Nipple Clamps  
> Gags
> 
> Written with ImpudentGuttersnipe in mind 😘

Mountain kneels on a pillow, barely moving, because he’s a good boy. Rain told him to sit, stay—so he does. Sometimes Rain is nice and he’ll leave the heat on; today is not one of those times. Mountain’s nipples are pebbles, and he’s pretty sure even his horse cock has climbed back inside his body, but his limbs barely tremble at all.

When Rain finally comes back to attend to him, Mountain makes sure to keep his eyes lowered, even though he’s happy to see his lover. He feels the end of a crop under his chin and the pressure meant to convey to him that he’s now allowed to meet Rain’s eyes. Rain’s face is blank of expression, but his eyes are dark and hungry. 

Mountain can’t wait to satisfy.

“Is my workhorse ready?” coos Rain.

Mountain wants to smile, loll his tongue out, and bury his face in Rain’s neck. Instead, he keeps his expression smooth as he says, “Yes, sir.”

“Perfect.” Rain purrs the word, but he smiles wide enough that Mountain can see his fangs. “Let’s get you outfitted.”

Rain pads away, and when he comes back, he holds out a pair of nipple clamps with 3 weights on them for Mountain’s inspection.

“I thought these for today. Not too much—just enough to give you a kick.”

Mountain would prefer 1 weight, but he knows to keep his mouth shut. It’s usually 6.

The crop flies and lands a sting on his thigh, and he swallows a gasp.

“ _Well_? What do we say, horsey?”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.”

Rain huffs and leans forward, crop now under his arm, to attach the clamps.

“Now I’m going to have to make them tighter. I was trying to be _nice_ , but we can’t have you skirting the rules, can we?”

“N-no, sir!” Mountain stutters as the clips pinch into his buds. He breathes out his nose, eyes closed, as Rain makes the tightening adjustments.

In.

Out.

In.

Out.

He opens his eyes when he feels Rain’s hands trace the muscles of his peck. When Rain notices Mountain’s eyes on him, he presses their foreheads together. 

“I like making my horsey pretty with accessories.” He grabs Mountain by the horns to rub his face on his crotch. “See what it does to me?”

Mountain inhales the musky scent of Rain’s arousal, nuzzling it a little before Rain pulls his head away.

“Ah ah ah. Not today, horsey.” He takes the harness that’s been hooked around his shoulder off and starts to buckle the bit gag around Mountain’s head; if Mountain’s lips weren’t stretched around the bit, he’d be pouting. 

“Sorry, boy. You can suck my cock another day.”

Rain takes a moment to admire his handiwork before indicating the padded table with his crop. “Up!”

If today had been a heated-room day, Rain would’ve helped him off his feet; but today is a cold-room day, so Mountain has to wobble up on his own as he pushes off from his toes and tries not to fixate on the throb in his nipples. He lays down on the table—surreptitiously stretching his legs—and lets Rain manipulate his limbs into the restraints. 

When a claw lightly traces his soft cock, Mountain jerks reflexively.

“Hmm. We’re going to have to do something about this. I need my favorite toy in proper working order. I’ve been prepping for this all day.”

The warm wet of Rain’s mouth envelopes his soft cock, and Mountain melts into the table. Rain’s tongue is exquisite as it rolls his cock around, encouraging it to hardness. Once Mountain’s dick is full and heavy, however, Rain doesn’t stop—he transitions into a sloppy blow job. Rain’s lips suck on his cockhead as his hand works the expanse of his shaft; his tongue flicks at his sweet spot on the way up; and he bobs his head down as much as is comfortable so he can hollow out his cheeks on the way back up.

It's such a treat, and Mountain’s eyes roll back as he lets the tight slick of Rain’s mouth and fist work him closer to climax. Even though a small part of him is warning that Rain would never let him cum like this, Mountain is still disappointed when Rain pops off just as he’s getting close to blowing. He groans in frustration as Rain gives him a wicked grin.

“Oops! I might have gotten carried away there.”

The crop appears, and he gives a rain of light smacks to the tip of Mountain’s swollen dick. Mountain howls and jerks, but despite all of his squirming efforts, he can’t escape the swats. By the time Rain is satisfied, Mountain is panting and mewling, and the happy glow from the blow job has faded. 

Rain pets down his thighs. “There now, horsey. Can’t have you too excited. Not til I’ve had my ride.”

Mountain just moans—half in frustration that the good feeling is gone, half in excitement at Rain’s intention. 

“Look at me,” commands Rain, and Mountain lifts his head up as much as he can; Rain is bending over, ass facing him, and Mountain can see the shine of his butt plug. He watches as Rain teases himself—as he gasps and moans—for what seems like hours before finally easing the toy out of him.

Mountain’s cock makes a valiant effort to fill fully again.

After dribbling an obscene amount of lube on Mountain’s dick, Rain clambers onto the table and positions himself above it. When Mountain whines in anticipation, Rain pets down his sides.

“Easy, boy. _Easy_.”

Rain goes at a snail’s pace as he eases himself down onto Mountain’s dick, measuring his breathing and stopping to relax his body every time another quarter inch slips in. Mountain’s body is _locked_ (yes, he’s restrained, but he could still buck Rain off him if he’s not careful), and he’s barely aware of the whines and whimpers that are escaping from around the bit as he trashes his head from side to side.

It’s a close thing, but Rain finally bottoms out.

“ _Satanas_ , Mountain,” Rain practically exhales, “your fucking cock.” His eyes are scrunched closed and his jaw hangs open. If Mountain wasn’t gagged, he would definitely have been tempted to growl at him to fucking move already.

But then Rain does get to moving—short little twitches that slowly turn into long drags. Rain starts fucking him in earnest, slamming himself down over and over again, and Mountain is bucking and jerking, but Rain holds on tight—brows still furrowed in concentration—as his own hard cock bounces along in time.

“Oh yes, horsey! I’m going to ride you hard and put you away wet!”

Mountain just moans, reveling in the feel of Rain tight around his cock.

After what seems like an eternity, Rain starts babbling that he’s going to cum, and he starts stripping his leaking cock. Mountain zeros in on where Rain’s fist is flying, but his desire to watch Rain’s release paint his stomach is overshadowed by Rain clenching around him. His head thunks back, and he at once tries to relish the feeling while also trying very hard not to cum without permission.

When he’s empty and satisfied, Rain falls forward onto Mountain’s chest.

“ _Mmm_ , good boy,” pants Rain. “Very good.”

Mountain moans.

“ _Shh_. You’ll get your treat. Hold your horses, big guy.”

Panting through the sustained arousal, Mountain waits for Rain. Just when he thinks he’s going to lose his boner before Rain lets him get off, Rain heaves himself up and begins to move again—slowly.

“You may cum now.”

The urgency has receded, but Mountain is still a shimmering pile of arousal, and it doesn’t take much of Rain’s gentle rocking to get him to the edge again. He’s enjoying the build when Rain unclips the clamps from his nipples, and all the feeling rushes back into them. The combination of relief and heavy pain has Mountain immediately shooting his load, and he snarls dangerously. His release is _intense_ , and it has him whiting out from reality for a few minutes; electric pleasure surging in waves as his hot cum shoots through his cock again and again. 

He must pass out, because when he comes to, his sweet Rainy has him out of the restraints and is massaging his joints.

“Ah, there you are.” He kisses Mountain’s nose. “Let’s get you rubbed down and watered, hmm?”


	4. Somnophilia – Copia x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somnophilia – Copia x Reader
> 
> Copia can't resist you—even whilst you slumber.

You wake up with your face mashed into the pillow and Copia’s hot breath in your ear. He’s already in you, hips pumping at a steady pace, and you wonder how long he’s been fucking you.

“Mmm,” you mumble. “You started without me.”

Copia chuckles, but his pace doesn’t stutter. “ _Dulce_ , you looked so peaceful. So _pliant_. How could I be resisting? Still so wet and gaping.”

The previous night’s activities had been vigorous and plentiful since it was Copia’s first night back from tour; Copia had shown you just how much his cock had missed all the warm, tight places of your body.

“All that thrusting on stage was good practice, eh?” he’d giggled into your ear in the middle of round 3.

You arch into his thrusts, and he moans. 

“Yes, _bene_ —you want to be pleasing your Papa. Such a good disciple.”

He pauses only to angle your hips up, smashing your face further into the pillow. Still groggy and half exhausted from the night before, you let him maneuver your body to his liking. It’s a better angle for you, and you gasp when he hits your sweet spot. He rumbles in pleasure and begins to pound into you, his hips making an audible slap against your ass.

“Ah! Your Papa knows how to fuck you good, yes?”

“Oh yes, Papa!”

“Then be a good little _topo_ —still and quiet, and Papa shall reward you.”

You let your body go lax as Copia uses your already sloppy hole to pleasure himself. He’s grunting with every deep thrust and muttering quietly in Italian while his hands alternately roam over your body and pull you onto his cock by your hips.

There was a low simmer of arousal when you awoke, but now it’s beginning to boil over into a burning need to be touched, to have some of that sweet release Copia is chasing for himself. You can’t help but clench around him in _want_ , and he lets out an answering snarl—whether in approval or condemnation, you don’t know. You _do_ know that he suddenly digs both his hands into your hips and rails into you as if you were the head of a nail and he was the hammer.

You’re being jolted forward, the pillow crumpling under you, as each deep punch excites something deep inside you.

“Papa, _please_ ,” you cry out.

“As above, so below,” he growls, and then his fingers are on you, and you lose yourself in the sudden burst of sweetness his touch wrings out.

The two of you are now rocking in counter, and a pointed thrust combined with a particularly clever roll of his fingers has you tipping over the edge. You twitch and jolt with each wave, gasping out little _Uhns_ as your orgasm rolls through you. Before you have the chance to come down, Copia drapes over your back and presses you hard into the mattress. His hips are working double time, and his little mewls are loud in his ear.

“Cum, Papa!” you say. “I want you to fill me up so everyone can smell you on me all day.” You clamp hard around him.

Copia locks and lets out a near squeal, and then he’s jerking into you—his hips mindless following the pull of his cock as he empties himself. Once his dick has stopped kicking, Copia goes boneless, and the entire weight of him rests on you.

“I love you, Papa, but—”

“I love you too, _dulce_ ,” he says, unwittingly interrupting you.

“Yes, but—you haven’t been laying off the pasta, have you?”

“I … what? … Oh.”

Grumbling, Copia rolls off of you, his soft cock easing out of a hole that’s slick once more with this moaning’s load.

“You are not very nice, _amore_.”

You squirm around and giggle.

“I guess we’ll have to work it off.”


	5. Thigh Riding – Swiss x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thigh Riding – Swiss x F!Reader
> 
> You put Swiss's thigh to good use.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Light Dirty Talk

“Aww yeah, baby girl. Show me whatcha got.”

Swiss is splayed out on a couch in the common room of the Ghoul dorm. His legs are bare, and his unbuttoned shirt is wide open to display his muscular chest. His tight, black boxers do nothing to hide the bulge and accompanying damp spot.

What had started out as a play fight after some _Mario Kart_ had turned into a makeout session with you grinding down into his lap as the two of you swapped spit. His sharp nails had shorn your habit in two, exposing your nudity to him (maybe you’d had high hopes), which made him grin lustfully.

“Didn’t want me to ruin any more of your pretty lingerie, huh, darlin’?”

Now you’re straddling one of this thick thighs—your veil askance—as you rock and grind down into his flexing rectus. You roll your hips sinuously so you can ground down into him from front to back—hitting all your hot spots—while you keep your eyes locked on his. His arms are crossed behind his head as he watches you undulate, and the only movements he makes are the flex of his leg and the occasional pulse of his bulge.

When you reach a new high, your eyelids flutter shut, and you moan softly as your head tips back.

Swiss purrs. “Yeah, I want to feel you drip down my leg, that’s it.”

When you lean forward to brace yourself on his abs, his hips give a minute twitch, and he bites his bottom lip; his fangs poke out, and you can’t wait to feel them scrape along your neck. You speed up as you rub against his thigh—squeezing yours together—like it was a pillow between your legs. You’re beginning to pant with the effort—your brow furrowed in concentration as you swallow thickly—and sweat serpentines down from your clavicle to drip off your swaying breasts.

Swiss has actually sat up, his hands clenched into the cushions as he coos at you.

“Work it, yeah—just like that. Wanna feel your pussy pop on me, baby girl.”

Your stomach rolls like a belly dancer’s as you continue to slide back and forth on his thigh, your way now eased by your slick. Swiss’s eyes are pitch with arousal, and they travel down the dewy length of you to linger where your ruddy folds are splayed on his dark, charcoal skin. Licking his lips, he runs a finger through the sticky trail you’ve left before sucking the pad into his mouth.

“Fuck, darlin’—you taste sinful. How ‘bout I put my mouth where my money shot is after I fuck you?”

Groaning, you grind harder on his leg, chasing that elusive crest that will lead to climax.

“Love your cock, Swiss—I feel so empty without it. Wanna come on your cock, wanna feel it in me when I pop.”

A rumbling comes from his chest, and one of his hands starts palming his shaft through the fabric.

“Well, hurry up then. They way you’re wiggling all over me? I could bust a nut right now.”

“ _No_ ,” you snarl as your movements start to become uneven. “Wanna feel the heat of your cum explode in me.”

“ _Shit_ ,” hisses Swiss as he gives his cock a good squeeze. “Are you close?”

You whine, “I just … I _need_ …”

Moaning, your hands find the meaty part of his thigh and dig in. You’re rocking onto him at a frenzied pace, desperate to reach that high. Swiss leans forward and catches your mouth in his. You kiss him aggressively and suck on his tongue before he uses its tip to lightly trace the roof of your mouth. It sends a spark through you, and that’s enough to finally, _finally_ tip you over the edge.

You let out a breathless _Oh_ as your orgasm hovers deliciously, and then it’s pulsing through you like a dam breaking. You moan loudly as your pussy tightens and spasms, and you’re dimly aware of Swiss’s hands on your hips, helping you to rock on his thigh as you ride it out.

When it’s finished, you fall into his warm chest and slump against him, and you can feel the hardness of his cock where it presses into your thigh; it kicks a little as his arms wind around you.

Kissing the top of your head, he says, “That was so hot; you’re so lovely like this.” He growls a little as he then rocks his hard-on into you. “I could eat you up.”

You huff out a laugh. “You already promised to do that.”

Swiss is already pulling his dick out of the slit on his boxers. “I think I promised to raw you first.”


	6. Edging – Aether x Dew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Edging – Aether x Dew
> 
> Aether teases Dewdrop, who is not amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Face Fucking  
> Overstim

Dew snarls and strains against his bonds when Aether’s hand leaves his cock.

“Jesus fuck, Aeth— _come on_.”

Aether gives Dew a bemused smile. “Nah.” Then he reaches over to pinch at Dew’s nipples, beaming when he hisses and jerks.

“ _Fuck_. Dontcha think they’ve had enough?”

Aether jumps his eyebrows. “ _Nah_.” He bends over so he can lave at one nipple while he pinches the other. Despite his protestations, Dewdrop moans and his dick twitches. By the time Aether switches buds, Dew is panting and writhing.

“You fucker. Fucking touch me!”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Fucking _now_ , asshole.”

Aether leans up and pats his finger on his lips. “Hmm. I don’t think that’s right.” Ignoring Dewdrop’s further objections, he leans back down to suck an earlobe into his mouth.

Dewdrop jerks and whines. “ _Shit_. Ok, ok— _please_. Please touch my dick.”

“Mmm, since you asked so nicely …”

Traveling down his body, Aether places soft kisses on Dew as he squirms and curses at him. When Aether reaches Dew’s cock, he sucks the tip into his mouth and swirls his tongues around the ridge—making sure to give special attention to the sweet spot.

“Hhgnnh, _yeah_. Oh fuck, just like that. Yeah … shove it down your throat—I wanna feel you swallow around it.”

Shockingly, Aether does not; he just continues to use his lips and tongue to stimulate Dew’s cockhead, revealing in the way Dew’s body tenses and his restraints rattle again.

“C’mon, man. _Come on_. Put my fucking dick in your mouth for real. _Please_.”

Popping off, Aether leans up and gives Dewdrop a stern look.

“I will fucking gag you,” he growls. “Shut the fuck up already.”

Dew growls back, but Aether just ignores him. He goes back to sucking and tonguing Dew’s tip. His head rests on the Gremlin’s stomach, so he can feel every pant, every hitch, as he teases him. He loses himself in his work until he feels Dew begin to harden in preparation for blowing, and then he sits up again—yawning and stretching.

Dew gives a pitiful, high-pitched whine of, “What the _fuck_ ,” while Aether bites his lips and tries not to laugh.

Stroking his own hard cock, he says, “I thought I told you to shut up.” Then, straddling Dewdrop, he presses himself onto his lips. “And no teeth, or I _will_ leave you here like this.” 

Reluctantly, Dewdrop opens his mouth and lets him in.

Aether rumbles. “Mmm, love your dirty little mouth, especially when it’s occupied.” He continues to thrust into Dew’s mouth, enjoying the way his tongue rubs against his cock. Despite all his spit and vinegar, Dew relaxes into being used; when Aether grabs his horns and starts to fuck his mouth with a vengeance, he just relaxes his jaw.

“Oh shit—I’m gonna cum …”

Dew’s leaking eyes look up at him, and Aether roars as he shoots his load down Dewdrop’s throat. When Aether pulls out his softening cock, Dew’s tongue tries to follow.

Aether chuckles. “I know, Dewy.” He runs a thumb across his cheek. “You’re a good boy.”

“You gonna let me cum now?” Dew asks in a small voice.

Chuckling again, Aether leans down to kiss him. “Not now—but soon.”

Dewdrop’s cock is flushed, and there’s a pool of precum on his belly with a sticky trail leading back up to his slit. Aether swipes his fingers through the mess, then uses the wetness to rub his fist around the tip. The sensation causes Dew to jerk and howl.

“Ah ah ah! Please, _oh please_.”

“Aww, sorry—I have other plans for you.”

As Dewdrop turns his face into his arm to whimper in frustration, Aether coats his finger with lube. When the slick pad of one presses against his hole, Dew jerks, startled.

“Oh shit, oh fuck.” He begins to tremble.

“Relax,” coos Aether.

“Put it in, put it in!”

“Relax first.”

Taking a deep breath, Dew relaxes all his limbs.

“There we go.”

“ _Please_.”

Grinning wickedly, Aether eases in his finger, then searches for Dew’s prostate, Despite trying to keep relaxed, Dew’s chest heaves, and he lets out little chittering noises. Aether knows when he finds the spot by feel, but Dew’s back also arches as he lets out a long moan.

“X marks the spot,” Aether quips.

“Fuck you—a-ah!”

Aether presses down on the bundle.

“Hmm—not today. Now, lie still.”

It’s an exciting thing watching Dew squirm and wiggle—not knowing if he wants to jerk away from the touch or rock into it—and Aether’s cock gives another twitch of interest. He massages the nerves, watching as Dewdrop’s cock kicks and bounces and spurts more precum. It’s only when his lover’s body tenses and he seems to hold his breath, does Aether remove his finger.

Dew’s eyes pop open, full of anger and surprise, and he mewls pathetically.

“What? _No_! Aww, c’mon, _please_. _PLEASE_.”

Aether just shrugs. “Wrist cramp.”

Dew’s face contorts. “You absolute _fucker_. Goddamned, motherfucking, _cocksucker_! Just wait til I get out of these restraints! I’m gonna fuc—mmphb!”

Taking his boxers, Aether shoves them in Dew’s mouth.

“Sit tight, buddy. I need to take a leak. B-R-B, as the humans say.”

There’s snarling and frenzied rattling behind him, but Aether pays no mind. He dallies in the bathroom—taking said leak, washing his hands, brushing his teeth—before heading back into the bedroom.

Dew’s head is resting on his arm, and when he looks up at Aether, it’s with a tear-streaked face and a hard look. His dick is only half hard, but it’s still flushed and sticky. Aether just smiles and rubs his hands together.

“Up for round—uh—what is it? Eight? Ten?” The head turns away from him. “Aww, don’t be like that, Dewy. Here—let me turn that frown upside down.”

Coating his hand in lube, Aether takes Dew’s cock in his fist; Dew jolts and grunts, and he angles his face down to watch Aether’s fist at work. Aether starts by swirling his grip around the cockhead, tapping a thumb to the sensitive spot, and then he squeezes his fist shut and strokes down. Dew’s eyes roll back, and he moans around the fabric in his mouth. On the upstroke, Aether swipes his thumb over the tip, and Dewdrop lets out a pleased rumble.

It doesn’t actually take that long at all—especially since Aether is pulling out all the stops—for Dewdrop to become hard and leaking again; he’s straining and grunting, his hips trying to fuck up, as Aether continues his expert hand job. When his cock starts to get rock hard, Dew starts mewling in anticipation of Aether stopping, but Aether jacks him faster.

Head jerking up, Dew looks down at where Aether’s fist is squeezing him, then up at his face; Aether can see that Dew’s eyes are bugged out and that he’s starting to shake—all while muted whimpers try to escape from behind the makeshift gag. Aether smirks at him, and Dew tenses—ready for the worst—but Aether keeps going.

Whining, Dew flops his head back, trying to trust Aether won’t ruin this for him; he’s shaking and squirming—his orgasm is hurtling toward him, and he just needs …

Aether’s other hand suddenly rolls his tight balls, and Dew yips in surprise. It’s enough that his orgasm hits and rolls through his body as the hot rush of his cum runs through his dick and starts shooting out everywhere. Dewdrop is only fixated on his climax as his toes curl and his dick pulsates in time to each wave, but Aether watches hungrily as the release hits Dew’s chin and coats his chest from pecs to navel.

The hot-white blankness is receding from Dew’s brain when he comes back to the sensation of Aether’s hand still gently stroking his softening dick. He lets out an _Mmm_ that’s muffled by the boxers in his mouth (which he’s absolutely chewed to shreds).

He’s so stated and groggy that he doesn’t understand the mischievous look on his lover’s face. Not even when Aether pours more lube on his dick.

“Fuck, I love watching you cum,” growls Aether. “Let’s see if I can wring some more out of you.”

And then Aether’s hand is flying over Dew’s overstimulated cock as Dew shrieks and howls at the sensation.


	7. Humiliation | Spanking – Papa II x Copia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Humiliation | Spanking – Papa II x Copia
> 
> Copia has been a naughty Rat, and now Secondo will take him to task for all the flock to see.

Papa II is just finishing up his sermon for the morning’s mass. He makes the sign of the Grucifix, and the congregation chants “Nema” along with him. The creaking of the pews seems to be the signal to end Mass, but Papa when holds up his hand, butts settle back down.

“Before I allow you to take your leave for breakfast, we have one bit of Church business left.”

There’s a slight rumble amongst the followers.

“We are a Church built on sin—” there are a few whistles, “—but we still have rules.” Papa leans over the pulpit. “ _I_ have rules.” A few Siblings squirm in phantom pain. “And that goes for _everyone_. From the lowly Ghouls to the senior-most Clergy.”

He makes a come hither gesture with the fingers of one of his gloved hands. The assembled look around to see who’s going to be in the hot seat, and small gasps of surprise sound out when _the Cardinal_ is the one shuffling up to the platform like a dog with its tail between his legs. When he reaches Papa, Secundo takes Copia by the shoulders and spins him around to face the congregation.

“Our dear _Cardinale_ did not follow the rules—he knows what he did—” Copia’s head hangs, “and now he will receive the consequence of his actions.”

Papa II settles himself in the cathedra, arranging the folds of his vestments appropriately so he can spread his legs and expose his knees. Once satisfied, he calls to Copia.

“Come, Cardinal, and assume the position.”

With a hesitating look out at the pews and then back to Papa, Copia reluctantly makes his way to Papa’s lap. With one more plaintive look at the other man’s unwavering face, Copia sighs and lays himself over his knee, legs crossed at the ankle and palms flat on the floor. 

“Good Rat. Now, let’s see if you’ve followed instructions.”

Papa flips the bottom of Copia’s cassock up; underneath, the Cardinal is bare except for a black thong, and his hairy legs tremble a little. Papa’s hands smooth over Copia’s ass, admiring the yellowing bruises that the congregation can’t see.

“What a good Rat,” he rumbles. “And since you’re such a good Rat, I know you’ll take your punishment without histrionics, right?”

“Yes, Papa.”

Without further warning, Papa’s leather-clad hand lands on one cheek of Copia’s ass, and he gasps in surprise.

“That’s five more because you forgot to count.”

“Yes, Papa.”

“We will start back at one.”

“Yes, Papa.”

_Smack_

“One—thank you, Papa.”

_Smack_

“Two—thank you, Papa.”

_Smack_

“Three—thank you, Papa.”

Papa II doesn’t hold back the force of his swats, and by 20, Copia is beginning to stutter. Despite countless shushings by Sister Imperator, the crowd emits a low tittering. By 30, he’s beginning to squirm, and by the time Papa reaches 45, Copia’s words are more of a whine. 

Papa peers down at Copia. “Hmm. No tears yet, Rat?”

He snaps his fingers, and an altar Ghoul scurries out to hand him a studded leather paddle. There’s a hushed murmuring throughout the Chapel and Papa rubs the paddle across Copia’s blushed ass.

“I want to be sure you’ve assimilated this lesson. I’ll let you know when you’re finished. Please start back at one.”

“Y-yes, Papa.”

_Thwack_

“O-one—thank you, Papa.”

_Thwack_

“T-two—t-thank you, Papa.”

_Thwack_

Copia seems to exhale all his air, then hurries to say, “Three—thank you, Papa.”

Papa continues without much hesitation as he alternates each cheek. As the hits go into double digits, Copia starts to jerk and squirm, each count falling from his lips in whines and whimpers. There’s no silencing the audience now, and the exclamations range from secondhand embarrassment to titillated excitement to horror.

This time when Papa reaches 40, Copia is ugly crying, his tears a small puddle on the wooden platform and snot dripping from his nose into his mouth. Again, Papa peers down at him.

“Hmm. Do we think that’s enough, Rat? Do you think you’ve learned your lesson?”

“ _Papa_ … Papa, _please_ ,” Copia mewls while squirming.

“Very well,” says Papa before he lands two more thuds on each cheek. “Aaaaad, two for good luck.”

Copia jerks and cries out at each one, but Secundo decides to let him have that.

“Stand,” he commands, and Copia shakily rights himself, his cassock falling down to cover his shame.

Papa stands—the congregation immediately hushing—smooths his vestments, and points at the cathedra.

“Sit, Rat. _Stay_.” 

Copia’s face is a ruin—it’s streaked in tears, snot is dripping off his chin, and his eye paint is running in rivulets down his cheeks—and he blinks puffy eyelids for a second before he comprehends Papa’s meaning.

“But, Pa—”

“ _Now_ , Rat,” Papa growls, “Or we will treat our flock to a second performance at Afternoon Mass.”

Gulping, Copia hurries to sit down, his entire face contorting before he manages to smooth it out into a mere wince. Papa slides the foot stool under Copia’s feet so most of his weight now rests on his bottom, which elicits even more of a grimace.

“Senior Clergy, Siblings, and Ghouls,” booms Papa as he faces the congregation, “to make sure our dear _Cardinale_ retains his lesson, he will remain here ‘til our afternoon service. You may observe him at your leisure if you have the free time to do so.”

Copia looks miserable, but doesn’t say a word.

“Now,” Papa claps his hands, “I’ve been told the mess is serving pancakes today!”


	8. Creampie – Mary F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Creampie – Mary F!Reader
> 
> You make Mary clean up his mess.

You’d been riding Mary pretty hard, rocking his world. He loves it when you box him in with your arms and slam into his hips, but his hands dig into your thighs when you swivel your hips in figure eights and clench hard around him.

“ _ Fuck _ —you ride me so good, babe,” he’d panted out as you bounced on his cock. “Wanna feel you cum on my cock.”

And so he’d licked the pad of his thumb and let the movement of your body aide him in stimulating your clit to full hardness before it pulsed and you’d juttered to a stop to let the waves of your orgasm travel through you, letting your pussy clamp around the hard dick filling you.

When you’d slumped forward, boneless, Mary had leaned up, grabbed your hips for purchase, and then started fucking up into you like a reverse jackhammer.

Now all you can do is go along for the ride as his pelvis slaps into your cunt with little wet squelches from your slick and sweat. Mary’s eyes are trained on where his cock disappears into your body, grunting as his chest heaves with the effort of his exertion. Occasionally, he looks up and squeezes one of your swaying tits, but mostly his focus is on cumming as soon as possible.

His eyes slam shut, and he starts chanting, “Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod,” and then he grunts loudly as he fucks up into you as hard as he can, while simultaneously pulling you down. And then he’s rocking into you with stuttering breaths as you feel his hot cum empty inside you.

Finally done, Mary falls back onto the pillows as air wheezes in and out of his nose, and his hands pet at your thighs dumbly.

“Shit, babe.  _ Fuck _ .” His eyes pop open. “You feel so fucking good when I bust my nut in you.”

You thumb at his cheek. “I’m glad, Mare.” His smile turns into an “O” of shock when your hand slides down to lightly grip his neck. “But I’m not fucking spending the rest of tonight with your jizz dripping down my thighs.”

Before he can do anything, you pop off his cock and reverse straddle him. “You’ll lap it all up, and you’ll say thank you when you’re done,” you growl as you back your pussy into him.

Mary doesn’t even hesitate—his hands grab your ass and pull you back until your pussy makes contact with his mouth. You’re still lit up from your earlier orgasm and the hard fuck, so when his tongue wiggles into your hole, you moan and fall down onto your elbows. He licks and sucks—like he really is trying to scoop the cream out of the center—as he pulses his thumb into your perineum; you rock back into him with breathy grunts.

You’re sure he teases your hole more than necessary, but his game is so good that you just go with it. 

Finally, he shimmies down further so his tongue can swirl around your clit.

“I’m gonna make you cum so hard the rest of my jizz is gonna squirt out of you.”

When his clever tongue makes contact with your clit, you cry out and almost jolt forward, but Mary’s hands hold you in place. You’re already most of the way there, and it doesn’t long at all before you’re cumming again, your pussy popping around his wriggling tongue.

Once the aftershocks subside, you slide off him to the side—lying half on, half off him. Mary is content to use your thigh as a pillow while he draws nonsense patterns on your skin. When he finally interrupts your glow, he says,

“Fuck, you make me so hot. You ready for round 2?”

When you look down, you see his cock is already half hard.

“I wasn’t kidding about the jizz, Mary.”

He just grins at you.

“I was counting on it.”


	9. Exhibitionism – Copia x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Exhibitionism – Copia x Reader
> 
> Copia _will_ have you—no matter who's watching.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Frottage

Copia’s in that white suit, and you know what that means.

Usually at a Post-Ritual afterparty, you can find Copia in one of his softer, less tailored black suits—still form fitting in the thighs, but less clingy everywhere else—as he works the crowd. Tonight, he’s in a corner, legs splayed open, arms across the back of the bench, with his pimp hat at a jaunty angle over his face.

One unfamiliar with such a sight could be mistaken in thinking Copia to be half asleep while the Ghouls carouse with the willing attendees. But you know he’s watching, waiting.

Weaving your way through the crowd, you make your way over to him. You know Copia sees you coming by the way he tips his hat up—the better to track you. When you finally reach him—knees brushing at each other—he finally moves by tilting his chin up at you.

“Ah, _dolcezza_ —you find me. Let us have a little fun, eh?”

The white pants leave nothing to the imagination, and you get a glimpse of his burgeoning erection before he pulls you down into his lap. You let out a delighted gasp, and you giggle when he pulls you flush with the line of his body.

“Back that up,” he whispers in your ear, enunciating each word clearly.

Using your toes for leverage, you press your ass into his hard-on and begin to rub against him in slow circles. Copia growls as he winds his arms around your waist, his hips rutting into you in time. His lips find your neck, and he begins making new bruises over the older marks. Moaning, you slot the line of his hard cock in the cleft of your ass before you shift your hips up and down.

Up and down.

Rumbling in pleasure, Copia switches to the other side of your neck, and his hat falls off. He ignores it (though you’re sure he’ll lament the grime it accumulates later), and you shift your one arm back so you can sink your hand into his soft hair.

A few curious gazes cast your way, but for the most part, the assembled are more caught up with their own sights for the night. That all changes when Copia’s hand travels down and feels your obvious arousal. You’re almost jostled off his solid thigh when he snarls and kicks over one of the smaller tables. It makes a screeching of metal scraping against concrete, and nearly everyone in the place stops talking and looks over in your direction.

“Yes, let them all see, _dolcezza_ ,” says Copia as he bends your upper torso over the table. “Let them see how well your Papa pleases you.”

When his gloved hand makes contact with you, you cry out in ecstasy. Copia’s clever fingers feel _so good_ where you’re throbbing, that you forget his arousal for a minute as you rock into his hand. You turn your head, your cheek now pressed to the cool tabletop, and you notice the party is still mostly focused on their leader and his latest toy.

“They may lust, but you are _mine_ tonight,” Copia purrs into your ear before his own hips start rocking his full dick into you.

It’s a circle of sensations as you rock down into his lap, then up into his fingers, and you’re too turned on to be self-conscious by the way you’re whining and mewling.

“ _Sí, sí_ —we put on our own show, yes?” Copia gasps into your neck and he ruts frantically against your ass.

“Yes, Papa!”

You’re much closer than Copia is to his climax by virtue of his direct touch, and soon enough the pleasure he wrings from you and the excitement of an audience has you moaning out,

“Papa! Oh, Papa—I’m going to cum.”

“Do it, _dolcezza_. Cum for your Papa and his guests.”

Your breath hitches and you pound on the table just moments before you lock up. “Oh oh oh!” you cry out right before you feel your orgasm break. You let out a long moan as Copia’s hand massages you through your initial climax and subsequent aftershocks.

A few people clap, and there’s a whistle or two, before Copia’s hand extracts itself from your crotch.

“ _Mmm_ , you taste _bellissimo_. My treat for later,” he sighs, and then he’s hoisting you up, bending you over the table now at the waist. “But it is the gander’s turn, no?”

He drapes himself over your back, squishing you down hard into the tabletop, before pressing his hard cock into the cleft of your ass. Grunting, he ruts and rubs against you—his hips grinding desperately into you—as he chases his own release. You’re aware of some tittering about you, but most of your world is the Formica tabletop and the solid press of Copia into you.

You can tell he’s close when his hips start stuttering, and he starts mewling out breathy little _Ahs_.

“Yes, Papa!” you breathe at him. “Please use me to cum.”

“ _Cazzo_!” he growls out in a staccato gasp, and then his head rests heavy between your shoulder blades as his pelvis grinds hard into you. 

He’s letting out shaky gasps as he rolls his hips languidly into your ass, and the revelers cheer and hoot around the two of you. Copia gives you a slight nip before he’s righting himself and giving a pronounced bow to his admirers.

By the time he helps you off the table, half the crowd is gone—to have their own private performances—and the other half is working to that point. When you look over at Copia, you can’t help but notice the wet spot and how it makes his crotch nearly transparent.

“Papa!” you gasp. “Your _pants_.”

Copia looks down at himself; then he shrugs and chuckles. “Eh heh heh—Let them stare.”


	10. Overstimulation – Copia x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Overstimulation – Copia x Reader
> 
> Torture 👏 the 👏 Rat 👏

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ruined/forced orgasm  
> orgasm delay/denial  
> restraints

You have Copia in light restraints because the man apparently has no self-control when it comes to his dick. He’s sweating—the perspiration pooling in his folds and rolling in droplets off his body—and he’s flushed in splotches from his neck down to his chest. Last night you rode him multiple times—using his dick as your personal dildo—but not once did you let him climax.

This morning you’d switched things up: you’d lubed up your hand and given him a nice, slow hand job. Copia had jerked against the restraints and moaned at the feeling of your tight fist around his purpling cock. Just when he was on the cusp, you’d yanked your hand away—delighted as cum eventually shot out of his dick and he’d let out a strangled groan of frustration.

“That was fun, Papa!” you’d giggled as his wet eyes had looked up at you. “I want to do it again!”

“ _Please_?” he’d whined. “Mercy on an old man …”

You’d given it a fake thought—head tilted and a finger to your lips—before you said, “ _Nah_.”

Once, twice, thrice more you’ve brought him to the edge only to ruin the party before he got there. Your hand is covered in his release, and he’s mewling into his arm and letting out little dry sobs, so you decide to give him a break.

Of sorts.

Slicking up your palm once more—as Copia continues to pant into his skin—you grab his semi and begin jacking him again. He hisses at the contact, but his head jerks to center to watch his shiny cockhead disappearing into your fist.

“Ah, ah, ah! Please, _please_ ,” he pleads as you jack him fast and dirty.

As you settle yourself comfortably and keep up your harried pace, something like hope brightens his eyes. You watch as his stomach heaves and contracts as he gets closer to blowing. His gaze is wildly switching between the smirk on your face and the tight of your grip.

His body tenses as he gets close, but he’s not even pleading with you this go ’round—no doubt afraid that if he even breathes funny, you’ll ruin his orgasm again. You don’t let up, and finally his head tips back as he hyperventilates.

“Ah … ah … _hhhghhn_ ,” garbles Copia as his load shoots out to join the others on his belly. He moans his way through the waves of his climax before finally relaxing into the bed for the first time in hours. “G _razie,_ ** _grazie_** ,” he cries out in relief, and you can see tears rolling down the side of his face.

You smile at him, knowing his relief is going to be short-lived. Copia is beginning to come down from his forced orgasm, and he’s starting to realize that your hand is still going apace. As you squirt a little more lube over his dick, his face collapses in horror before he turns his eyes up to you.

“Oh no—no, _please_ ,” he cries.

He doesn’t safeword out, so you just grin and reply, “Take it, Rat.”

He groans, his whole body now flinching and squirming, trying in vain to get away from your touch on his oversensitive dick. He’s begging and pleading as you pay special attention to his cockhead. He’s still hard enough, and you’re still gaping and sloppy from all the rounds the night before, so—hand leaving his cock for just a second—you straddle him and fumble to get him inside you. Copia’s eyes nearly bug out as you seat yourself on his cock and start bouncing.

“Why, _why_ ,” he whimpers hoarsely, jerking spasmodically every time you shift up and down.

He closes his eyes and starts praying to Lucifer for strength, and that’s when you clench around him.

_Hard_.

He squeals like a stuck pig, but you just laugh.

“ _Aww_ ,” you coo. “Was that a little too much, baby?”

His tear-filled eyes bore into yours. “ _Pease_ ,” he says in barely a whisper as his chest heaves.

“Well, tough titties. You’re going to cum once more before I’m through. Now whether that’s before or after I get off again is up to you, Rat.”

To your great satisfaction, Copia lets out a sob before he starts thrusting into you.


	11. Aftercare – Papa II x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aftercare – Papa II x Reader
> 
> Secondo cares for you after a hard scene.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fluff

You come down from your subspace when you feel the padded-leather cuffs are being unbuckled from your wrists. Experience lets your brain know you won’t crumple onto the floor the minute the pads of your feet make contact with the surface, so you let yourself slump. Solid arms steady you right before the spicy musk of your Papa envelopes you, and you turn your face into his solid chest. You’re still riding high on the endorphins, but a dim part of your consciousness reminds you that you’re going to be in a world of pain when they wear off.

“Papa?” you rasp.

“ _Shh_. Settle, pet. Close your eyes.”

You do—floating off on the high once more—and when you open them again, you’re in Papa’s soft bed; he’s pressing a glass to your lips, and—on reflex—you grab it and drink greedily. Papa _tetches_ and places a warm hand over yours.

“Slowly now, pet. You know this.”

“Yes, Papa,” you say hoarsely.

After you’ve (slowly) imbibed the coconut water, Papa hands you **first** ibuprofen, **then** individual peanut butter crackers—waiting patiently as you finish one before handing you another. As you eat, he massages your wrists with gentle hands, so you alternate which hand holds the crackers. Despite his access to quality ingredients, you’ve always preferred the neon orange ones. They offend Papa’s delicate sensibilities, but they’re the ones he keeps stocked just for you.

Once you’ve consumed all six, Papa gives you more water to wash the stickiness down. Dutifully, you finish those 8 ounces too, aware of the weight of his gaze on you. When you hold out the empty glass, Papa takes it from your hand—his mismatched eyes appraising you before meeting your own.

“Yes?” he asks, the one word full of meaning. You nod. “All right, then. Roll over, pet.”

Already accustomed to the next step, you settle yourself onto your stomach, head pillowed in folded arms. You hear the sound of a cap open, then the familiar scent of the arnica. His fingers lightly trace the stripes of your caning welts before you feel the cool of the cream on your heated skin. Relaxing into a doze, you let Papa rub the stuff into your raised stripes and bruised flesh.

The expert massage of his fingers lull you into a soft in between space—so when the cold of the bundled ice wraps hit your skin, you’re slingshotted rudely back into consciousness, and you whine in distress.

“ _Settle_ , pet.”

“Sorry, Papa,” you mumble. “Surprised me.”

He chuckles. “Mmm. Yes, I quite noticed.” Solid fingers sink into your hair and start to massage your scalp. “Go back to sleep, pet.”

You let the already sticky webs of sleep catch you under, and when you wake again, it’s to Papa in his silk pjs next to you; he’s propped up and reading a thick book, reading glasses perched on his nose.

“Papa,” you murmur sleepily.

He looks over at you, placing his finger in the book to hold his place.

“Ah. Hello, pet.” His eyes assess you. “Feeling ok?”

You stretch, and—although the motion highlights all your pain spots—you do feel good. 

Cared for.

Safe.

“Yes, Papa.”


	12. DubCon – Popia x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DubCon – Popia x Reader
> 
> Copia makes an offer you can't refuse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Power Imbalance
> 
> Can be read as a "part 2" of [There's a New Papa in Town](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23029240)

In some ways, Copia’s ascension to Papa had no effect on the running of the Abbey at all. You still had to get up at the crack of dawn to start your chores. Meals were served three times a day after Mass, and every 3rd Tuesday was still creepy fish night. Initiates went to their classes reluctantly, and everyone was still allowed a “town night” in shifts.

In other ways, Copia had grabbed the reins of power and decided to wield it to his liking. Though shy and awkward at times, Copia was strict—tardiness and unpreparedness being 2 of his biggest pet peeves. A time clock was installed to make sure Siblings weren’t shirking in their duties. Attendance was kept for Mass. The loosey-goosey trading of rooms now required official reasons and the filling out of forms—and that paperwork you’d been putting off? … suddenly that triggered demerits.

_Demerits_.

Sister Imperator looked practically vibrant. She almost smiled once.

A few of the more rebellious Siblings had tried to test the boundaries of Copia’s new laws and were subsequently summoned to his quarters. They all returned pale-faced and shaking—unable or unwilling to say what had happened—and the rebellion had ceased.

Copia had also commissioned a whole new papal wardrobe—lavish embroidered robes, fitted day suits, formal and informal vestments. He liked to look spiffy, and he liked to show off his … assets. Since he’d first taken on the mantle of the Ghost leader, Copia hadn’t wanted for attention: Siblings, Initiates, Ghouls—he’d had his pick.

So no one is shocked when he officially decides to instate a harem. And it seems like everyone is _gagging_ (sometimes literally—Copia likes a good face fuck) to be picked. It comes as some surprise, then, when those Siblings who are lukewarm at best towards the new Papa, are the ones that begin to fill out his roster.

You’ll admit you’re not his biggest fan. You’ve been around since Secondo’s reign, and the Cardinal had always felt inferior compared to Nihil’s line. But you don’t particularly care that he’s Papa now—you're devoted to the Church first and foremost. It’s not like you have reason to be on one of his watch lists.

And he’s still _Copia_. When he got wind that his new nickname was “Popia,” he’d just chuckled and said, “Just do not be calling me ‘late for dinner,’ eh? Heh heh heh.” Then he’d given half a finger gun before turning and walking into a pillar.

When you get Copia’s summons, you don’t really think anything of it. You do bookkeeping, and you just figure he has questions about sums. Terzo was abysmal with budgets, so you’re sure Copia must have questions about the inadequate record keeping.

Even when you enter his personal quarters and see the fire, the wine, and the table for two, you still don’t get it. Is Copia expecting Company?

“Ah!” he exclaims as he ushers you in. “Sit, _per favore_.” He gestures at the table.

“Is this … for me?” You scrunch your face in confusion.

“ _Sí_ , _sí_. We have much to discuss.”

_Ah—a working dinner, then_.

You seat yourself and—after waiting for Copia to sit—dig into the pasta dish in front of you. You respond as Copia asks you banal, “getting to know you”, small talk questions. You listen when he talks about his plans for Ghost and thus the Church. You nod politely when he tells his “amusing” anecdotes.

It’s only after you’ve finished the chocolate torte with raspberry sauce that Copia finally gets to the goddamn point. He scoots his chair over to you, and his gloved hand covers yours before he looks deep into your eyes.

“I would like to offer you a place in my harem.”

“I … _what_?” you ask incredulously.

Copia’s hand comes up, and he presses a finger to your lips.

“ _Sí_ —you do not … _fancy_ me in that way.” His finger presses on your bottom lip before it trails down your chin and the column of your neck. 

You swallow, and the rest of his fingers spread out so that his hand is now around your neck. “I do not need the already converted. I need the irresolute.”

He stands up, and his hand travels across your neck and into your hair before he leans down to whisper into your ear.

“I am your spiritual leader, so you will allow me to convert you.”

A chill barely shivers through you before your head is wrenched suddenly back with enough force that your chair tips onto its hind legs. Your arms shoot out in panicked reflex as you’re forced to meet his gaze.

When Copia had shown up in his fresh paint, there had been a threat in his once soft visage. Like all things, however, routine weeks of seeing him sport the skull face every day had dulled the menace.

Now, the white paint gleams in the light, making the stark black of the skull accents seem like voids to Hell; his steady, mismatched eyes shine like beacons out of the deep pits of his sockets, and you’re unable to break his gaze as they bore into you. Your heart is beating like a wild, caged thing, and you swear Copia can smell your fear.

“I offer you status. The favor of our Dark Lord.” He leans down close enough that you can see his lips twitch into a smirk. “Leverage against that _cagna_ in accounting.” His nose brushes yours, his head turning this way and that as he ghosts his murmuring lips over yours. “Sin with me, _piccolo topo_. I offer you my lust and I will indulge your pride. Together we will make the Dark Lord fat on our desires.”

Blood roars through your ears as your stomach flips. Visions of Copia kicking out the chair from under you and taking you right there has your heart stuttering in alarm.

But then he lets you go, the chair falling back on four legs with enough of a jolt that you almost slide off.

“Or you go back,” he says as he flicks a dismissive hand. He saunters over to the fireplace and begins poking at the embers with a wrought-iron poker that’s already resting in the flames. “Live without sin. Unfavored. Unknown.” You watch as he pulls the tool out of the fire and admires the orange glow at the end. “Perhaps the leverage be going accounting, hmm?”

Your stomach seizes as he saunters back toward you with the iron. He places one hand on your shoulder as he gestures with the glowing tip.

“You owe it to yourself to try anything once, eh?”

Just as you’re ready to open your mouth to plead, he leans past you and presses the hot end to the wick of a candle that has gone out.

“Ah, yes! Now I can better see your lovely face.”

When he turns to place the poker back in the fire, you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you were holding and you slump as your muscles untense. A tremble starts to move through your body, and you lean onto the table to steady yourself. You start when a blanket is draped over your shoulders.

“It is drafty, yes, I know,” coos Copia right before he lowers himself into his chair and crosses one leg over the other. “But Papa can make you hot.” His eyebrows waggle.

You blink at him.

He shifts and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Shall I make fire run in your veins and cause your blood to boil?”

You wipe your hands down your habit and run your fingers through your hair. You’re very proud of yourself when you say without wavering,

“Yes, Papa. I would love to be a part of your harem.”

Copia claps his hands in delight before he jumps up and snaps.

“Okie dokie!” His hand cups your face, and you feel the buttery leather of his glove as it sweeps across your cheek. “You can have Thursdays.”

The gesture is gentle, so you’re taken completely off guard when his other arm sweeps out and knocks everything off the table to land in a clattering, shattering mess. 

You’re staring at the debris in shock when you feel his hand slither around and grip the back of your neck.

He rasps into your ear, “Now we seal the deal,” right before he yanks you out of the chair and forces you down to bend you over the table. You’re stunned at the alacrity of the act and only begin to recover when you register the fumbling behind you.

“Praise be to Satan,” he says cooly.

“P-praise be to—oh, _oh_!” you stutter out as Copia’s lubed fingers prod and enter you.

“Mmm,” he rumbles when he feels how gaping you are. “Satan loves a sinner, my Child. And ah, have you been busy.”

Without preamble, his cock replaces his fingers as he shoves into you; you cry out at the sensation, and he yanks down the neckline of your habit to kiss and suck on your neck. His pace is fast—his thrusts rough—as he fucks the obedience into you. A hand grips the front of your neck and angles you up so that Copia punches your sweet spot every time his hips smack into the meat of your ass.

Your heart pounds and your blood quickens as your arousal swirls through you. You moan and clench around his cock, and Copia leans in to rasp in your ear.

“Cum for Papa, _piccolo topo_. Cum on my cock. Show me what you’re good for.”

His cock hits you hard and deep over. And over.

And over again.

When you climax, you wheeze out a loud moan and go boneless in his grip. You’re too busy riding the waves of your orgasm to notice that Copia is emptying his balls into you, but you’re brought back to yourself when Copia bites into the juncture of your neck _hard_. You cry out in pain, but Copia just growls and latches harder as he fucks you through his aftershocks.

Afterwards, he gives you a chaste kiss on the forehead and a monogrammed handkerchief for the cum now dripping out of you.

He adjusts his pants, but when you go to fix the askew fabric of your neckline to cover his mark, he slaps your hand out of the way. Before you can react, he rips the collar of your habit in two so it hangs off your shoulder. You gasp in surprise, and you swear his white eye glints as he says,

“No. Show it. Everyone must know you belong to me.”


	13. Breeding – Dewdrop x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Breeding – Dewdrop x F!Reader
> 
> Dew tells you exactly what he's going to put in your belly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dirty Talk  
> Rough Sex  
> Knotting

A clawed hand is gripped into your hair—it’s already yanked pieces out—mashing your face down into the pillow, and you wheeze for air through the thick down. The other grips hard enough into your love handle you’re sure it’s drawing blood.

Dewdrop has you ass up on the bed (because the wood floor had begun to hurt your knees), and he’s pounding into your hole like he wants to come out the other side. He’s hissing, _Take it Take it Take it_ , with each slap of skin on skin. You’re trying to raise yourself on your arms to get a breath of air when Dew yanks your head up.

“Arch that pretty little back for me, bitch. Yeah, just like that. Fuck—I’m gonna fill you with so many kits … you’ll be too heavy to do much of anything.”

“Oh fuck, Dew—wanna be round with your kits. Fill me up with you cum.”

“Bitch, I’m _trying_ ,” he snarls, and then he lets go of your hair and yanks your arms behind you. “Be so much easier if you could keep my cum in your pussy.” His thrusts slow, and you can hear the squelch as Dew punctuates his point. “You messy cunt, leaking my good shit everywhere. Gotta keep my dick in you until you catch.”

“Yes!” you gasp. “Want your dick stuck in me Dew, please plug me up.”

He snarls and lets go of your arms. Even as you’re flopping down onto the bed, Dew’s grabbing your hips so he can really slam into you. You moan every time he rams into your G-spot.

“Oh yeah? You fucking like that, huh? I gotta do all the work to keep you sloshing with my cum, and you just wanna lay there and enjoy it like a goddamn pillow princess?”

He stops thrusting, and you whine.

“Nuh-uh, momma. You want this cock kicking in your pussy, you better start working that ass.”

On shaky arms, you pull yourself up.

“Fucking hurry up before I lose my boner. It’s your mouth if I do.”

You clench around him, and he lets out a choked grunt as you brace yourself against the wall. Soon you’re bouncing back on his cock and panting with the effort. Behind you, you hear a yawn.

“That the best you got? The mother of my kits better not be some weak-ass little bitch.”

Letting out a huff of indignation, you collect yourself and start impaling your pussy on his cock like he’s a fuck machine.

“Aw shit, yeah. Just like that—that’s what I’m fucking talking about. Wanna watch my dick come out all shiny. Fuck yeah … that’s what makes me hard, what’s gonna make me blow my load in you.” 

He drapes himself over your back so his hands can grope your tits. “Can’t wait 'til these bust out and you have a kit at each teat. Feed the whole litter and then give me a taste.” He snarls softly, seeming to vibrate before nipping into your neck and shoulders, and you find your motion hindered.

“You want me to fuck you or what, Dew?”

“Or what,” he rumbles as he smears his head into your skin. One of his hands travels down to your pussy, and you moan low in your throat when the pad of a finger swipes across your throbbing clit. “Maybe I wanna feel something other than my own spunk coating my cock.”

You continue to rock back onto Dew—his hips giving shallow thrusts—as he swirls his digit around your clit. The harder your clit gets, the more aggressive his finger presses into your nub, and soon you’re swallowing hard and trembling as you approach orgasm.

His breath is hot on your ear as he growls into it. “That’s it, baby. You come on my cock. I want those silky muscles of yours to suck up my jizz and make me a daddy.”

He presses hard and keeps the pad on your clit. Your arms give out, and you press into the wall, but there’s no getting away from Dew’s finger on you. The sweetness builds and builds, and you shudder and jerk at the intensity of it. Dew is growling low in his throat as he pumps into you.

“Hhhghhn, _Dew_ —” you choke out as the wave breaks and your body is wracked with juttering spasms. You feel yourself clamp hard around Dew, and he howls, pressing you once again down into the pillows.

“I’m gonna stuff you so full!” His hips are working double time now. You’re pushed up the bed, and your head starts banging into the wall. “My cum’s gonna fill your insides ‘til it starts leaking out your mouth, and then I’m gonna turn you upside down and fill you up some more.” 

You can feel his knot starting to form, and you know it won’t be long now. 

“I want it seeping out around my knot and leaking down your legs … you won’t be able to walk because you’ll be slipping on my jizz with every step.”

“Yes, daddy!” you manage to breathe out.

“O-oh _shit_ ,” he hisses, and then he’s shoving his expanding knot into you with a grunt. You gasp and clutch the sheets hard in your fists. He’s letting out chitters and guttural noises in his own language as he blows his load, but all you can focus on is how his swollen knot is expanding and pressing into your G-spot. It’s an unrelenting pressure that has you scrabbling at the sheets.

“DewDewDew,” you chant as you rock your hips into the sensation. “Dew—I’m gonna … I’m gonna …”

Dew grinds his knot into your sweet spot, rolling his hips as he does so. "Oh yeah … again. **Again** — _fuck yeah_! I got more of that good shit for you, baby. At least 3 more loads.”

You orgasm low and deep; you’re so stuffed full you can barely feel the clench of your muscles, but Dewdrop moans in ecstasy and jerks his hips into you.

“Oh fuck, oh yeah! Here comes your second injection, baby—I’m gonna pack you so full.” His hands grab into your skin hard enough to bruise before he growls through his demi-orgasm.

When he’s finished, he doesn’t stop … just keeps rolling his hips and grinding into you. You slam your fists down into the bed.

“Oh fuck, Dew—I can’t … I _can’t_!”

His hands yank you back by your arms again.

“You can and you will, bitch. I’ll keep my knot swollen ‘til I’m good and satisfied that you’re packed enough to catch 8 times over. Enjoy the ride because we’re gonna be here for a while.”


	14. Sensory Deprivation – Papa III x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sensory Deprivation – Papa III x Reader
> 
> Papa is at your mercy to play with.

Papa is so fun to play with. 

  * Limbs: restrained to each bed post  

  * Eyes: blindfolded  

  * His cute little ears: noise-cancelling headphones  

  * Nose: swimmer’s plug   

  * Mouth: ungagged because he makes the best sounds  




You’d started with the basics.

  1. A feather to tickle his sides and make his balls twitch. Then you’d applied it to the sole of each foot to hear his lovely squeal.  

  2. Dripped wax onto his chest and cock to make his skin a raw nerve.  

  3. Ice in your mouth swiftly followed by warm tea to confuse his nipples and cock.  




But now that he’s warmed up, you’re ready to bring out the big guns.

Papa squirms when he feels your presence recede—his ropes creaking as he moves—no doubt wary of losing his only tether. You hurry, but you’re satisfied with your choices, so you lean back onto the bed, letting your skin touch his.

When you place an ice cube directly onto his one nipple, Papa jerks and gasps in surprise. Before he has a chance to relax into the cold, you clip a nipple clamp onto the other nipple. Papa lets out a squawk, and you enjoy watching him trying to decide which feeling he wants to lean into.

Switching hands, you reach your ice-cold hand down to stroke his cock. Papa lets out an _Ah!_ as your chilled hand makes contact with the hot flush of his skin. Soon though, he’s rocking into your touch. You stroke him slowly as you watch the cube melt; the water running in rivulets down his chest and sides.

By the time the ice has fully melted, Papa’s chest is heaving, and he’s straining at his restraints. When you remove your hand from his cock, he whines, so you tap his balls. He gasps, and you take that moment to unclamp the metal from his other nipple. He hardly has time to register the blood flowing back into the throbbing flesh before you tap the head of his dick.

“ _fucK_ ,” he punches out.

You giggle, but he can’t hear you.

He’s biting his bottom lip now, so you have to tap on the upper one to get him to open his mouth. You pinch his tongue, giving it a tug so he sticks it out for you, then you place a lemon Warhead on the tip. Papa’s face scrunches, but he curls the candy into his mouth to suck.

“Oh, _ugh_.”

He always did love his sweets more.

With his mouth working on the overwhelming sour, you pick up the ginger piece and use a vegetable peeler to shave off the skin. You rub the exposed root into your palm, then you fashion the tip to a point. Papa lets out a little yip of surprise when you touch the root to his hole, but then he lets out a breath and relaxes.

Grinning wickedly—even though he can’t see the evil in your eyes—you insert the pared root into him. You see his eyebrow furrow as he realizes you haven’t inserted a plug, but then you start stroking his cock, and the furrow smooths out on its own as his face relaxes into an expression of pleasure.

You wait for it.

His breathy _Ahs_ turn into moans of distress as the ginger root finally activates.

“Oh—oh, _what_? What is … oh oh **_oh_**.”

He starts trying to jerk away from the burning, but the harder he clenches, the more intense it gets, and your ginger-coated hand that’s on his cock follows the wiggles of his hips as he endeavors to break free from your grasp. 

You must admit that the way he mewls _Please_ goes straight to the throb between your legs. Watching him squirm and gasp, you’re sorely tempted to keep the root in him until it wears off—but this is playtime, not a punishment, so you stop stroking his cock to ease the root back out.

Papa sighs in relief, but that’s before you push in the buttplug. He has only a moment to get used to the cool metal before you set it to alternating pulses. It’s a toy he enjoys, but at a setting he dislikes—because he finds the vibration pattern too much of a tease. When you look up, you’re pleased to see him twisting in frustration and panting in stymied arousal.

While he’s whining, hips twitching, you squeeze two drops of atomic hot sauce into his mouth. You watch intently for the exact moment the substance spreads and coats his mouth; his whole face contorts, and he starts breathing out in harsh _haah haah haah_ breaths. He groans and whimpers, thrashing his head this way and that—as if that’ll neutralize the burn.

As Papa’s body jerks and wiggles, you dribble some hair removal wax onto one thigh before pressing a cloth strip into the trail. With everything else going on, he barely seems to notice what you’ve done, which suits you just fine, and while it sets, you fill his fleshlite with lube. 

When the slippery wet of the lube coats his dick, Papa’s back bows off the bed. He moans indecently as you jack the tight toy over his cock. His very soul seems to zero in on the feeling of the slick pocket massaging his cock. Now he jerks and twists for an entirely different reason.

As you jack him, you note every caught breath, every hitch. When he gasps and rumbles in pleasure, you lick your lips—caught in your own unstated desire. As you stroke him with the toy, you lean down so you can kiss his belly rolls and trace your tongue along his folds.

Once you’re sure he’s about to blow, you use your free hand to catch the edge of the cloth strip. Still jerking him, you rip off the fabric.

Papa _howls_ , and then he cums very, _very_ hard.


	15. Pyrophilia – Dewdrop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pyrophilia – Dewdrop
> 
> Dewdrop has some alone time with a stove.

Dew had no fucking clue where anybody was, and he wanted to play. 

When he’d woken up in the shared room of their rented suite, it had been to an empty bed and the noon sun. Grumbling at the lack of morning sex, he’d shuffled out to the common area in his summoning suit; the detritus from the previous evening’s shenanigans—takeout containers, empty beer cans, broken balloons—were still strewn across the sofa and floor, but now there were obvious signs of breakfast.

He’d lifted the lid of a frying pan on the stove in the kitchenette and pouted when he only found the browned remnants of what had probably been scrambled eggs. He’d hissed in annoyance when he found the coffee pot void of all but a few drops of java.

Where in Lucifer’s godforsaken ball sack were his pack and Copia? They had the entire day to themselves, and he was horny.

As he began to clean up (dumping the pan on top of the stacked dishes in the sink was cleaning, right?), he thought about what he could jack off with in the shower. It wasn’t until he was licking the stove clean of egg bits did he realize what a perfect opportunity he had to indulge himself in a little fire ghoul activity—one that was off-limits on a tour bus or a simple hotel room.

Dew turned on all the burners—gas stove,  _ nice _ —and the oven for good measure. As the flames from the burners  _ whooshed _ and flickered, Dewdrop’s cock began to fill. Biting his lip, he put his one hand into the flames—it wasn’t as nice as the pits in hell, but it got his cock twitching all the same. 

Shuffling forward, he opened the oven door a crack and rested his dick on the top. He put his other hand in the peaking flames of another burner, and he heard a sizzle as precum leaked from his cock into the bottom of the hot oven.

_ Lucifer _ that felt fucking good. He thought maybe he could cum just from watching the way the fire licked around his skin and from the oven heat now blistering his cock. But the band was going to come back at some point—probably soon—and Dew knew he needed to move this shit along.

Grabbing the cooking oil—and cursing when the plastic melted onto his hand—Dewdrop poured a liberal amount over his dick, heedless of how it dripped down his legs and all over the floor. He rumbled in pleasure as he stroked and coated himself with the oil, his gaze fixed on the orange glow before him.

_ Fuck _ , he needed direct contact

Practically vibrating with excitement, his tongue hanging out, Dew stood up on his tippy toes and stuck his dick straight into the fire. The flames curled around it and his fist, the glow more pronounced where it fed from the oil

“Aw, fuck yeah!” he gasped as he started jacking himself hard and fast. The hotter the oil got, the faster Dew stroked himself. The heated air from the ajar door leaked out and toasted his balls deliciously, and he squeezed his dick hard when it throbbed in response.

When the oil on his ghoulish skin burst into flames, Dewdrop’s eyes rolled back into his head and he moaned in ecstasy. His dick throbbed, and his balls tightened. He wanted to climb up onto the stove and roll around in the flames, but he was  _ so close _ . The fire alarm started to shriek, but he just reached up and ripped it out of the ceiling with a snarl.

Leaning into the stove for support, he didn’t notice at first that the flames had begun to travel down his legs; all he could feel was the bite of the fire on his skin, and the searing sting was sending him careering over the edge. It wasn’t until he felt that first hot rush through his dick did he realize he was standing in a puddle of flames—contained, but beginning to char the linoleum.

The first spurt of cum landed with a  _ plop _ on the stovetop, but Dew—grunting out his pleasure—angled his cock down, and each subsequent rope of cum shot out and landed in the flames at his feet. Dew jerked himself until his cock stopped kicking; a purr rumbled from his chest as he squeezed his dick to get out every last drop. His sticky release did nothing to quench the flames; instead, a horrible smell began to waft up in a noxious miasma.

Still riding the endorphins of his orgasm, Dew merely stood there panting—his soft, drooling cock in hand. The fire now licked up his entire body, and he was just starting to think that maybe he should do something.

Which is how the rest of the band found him when they burst in the door seconds later, arms laden with parcels and breakfast takeout. 


	16. Face Fucking – Dewdrop x Swiss x Mary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Face Fucking – Dewdrop x Swiss x Mary
> 
> Dew and Swiss have a little fun with Mary's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Knotting  
> Choking

Mary’s on his knees, sweat dripping down his thick throat. Dewdrop’s got his claws in his spiked hair, his tail binding his hands, and he’s pumping Mary’s head down onto Swiss’s cock.

“Do you like that, Mary? Do you enjoy having a mouth full of my bro’s cock?”

A gurgling noise emits from where Mary’s lips are stretched around Swiss.

“I think he does, Dewy my man. I think you can go a little harder—he can take it.”

Chuckling, Dew pushes at Mary’s head until his nose is pressed into Swiss’s curls.

“Aw _fuck_ , that feel nice,” moans Swiss.

Dew uses his other hand to clutch at Mary’s neck and looks up at the other Ghoul.

“I think I can feel you down there. If I squeeze, you think I can give you a hand job?”

Swiss’s eyes are dilated, and he licks his lips.

“You can try.”

Mary starts to squirm, but Dewdrop chitters and squeezes his neck.

“ _Shit_ ,” hisses Swiss as Mary makes a gagging noise and pushes back against Dew’s grip. With a sigh, Dew pulls Mary off Swiss in a mess of spit.

Mary coughs as he sucks in air, and he blinks his eyes rapidly, unable to wipe the tears and sweat from them himself. Dewdrop _tsks_.

“You think a dead boy wouldn’t need to breathe so much.”

Mary glares at him. “ _Half_ zombie, asshole. It’s still fucking uncomfortable.”

Dewdrop shoves his fingers into Mary’s mouth.

“Shut up living dead toy.”

Swiss shuffles forward and rubs his cock on Mary’s face.

“Fuck, Dew. Stop playing with him—I wanna finish.”

“You gonna knot him?”

“If you don’t get your boxers in a twist waiting, man.”

Dew pulls his fingers back out and slaps Mary, who bares his teeth, but otherwise doesn’t fight.

“Don’t fucking bite, or you won’t find your dick this time.”

Mary grins and sticks out his tongue. “I don’t bite the dicks like.”

Dew growls, but Swiss just rolls his eyes and grabs the back of Mary’s head.

“Don’t waste that clever tongue, Mary—how ’bout you give my dick a lick.”

Mary wets his lips. “Sure, man. My own personal lollipop.”

Even though Mary sucks Swiss’s cock down of his own accord, Swiss still holds on by the hair, encouraging Mary with the subtle pressure. He grunts and chitters, rocking his hips as Mary bobs on his cockhead before popping off to run the flat of his tongue up the underside only to finish with a swirl around the top ridge. 

Dew’s tail tightens and his mouth waters as he watches Mary suck off the other Ghoul. He palms his own hard cock, then grabs it at the base and leans forward so it rasps against the slight stubble on Mary’s cheek as he bobs.

“C’mon, Swiss! Harder! He’s not even leaking anymore.”

“Lucifer, Dew—who’s turn is it, anyway?”

Despite his words, Swiss’s fingers tangle into Mary’s stiff hair, and he starts thrusting into his orifice. Mary relaxes his jaw, and saliva starts dripping out the corners of his mouth. Swiss moans.

“Aw fuck, Mary. Your mouth.”

Mary makes a noise that can only be described at smug. Dew reaches forward and pushes his head down again. Though Mary coughs and sputters around Swiss’s cock, he doesn’t pull back.

Swiss groans. “ _Shit_ —wanna feel your tight throat …”

“Swallow, bitch,” hisses Dewdrop as he again squeezes Mary’s throat. 

It gratifies both Ghouls when he gulps: Swiss rumbles in pleasure, and Dew runs his rough tongue along Mary’s cheek. Then, growling, Swiss sinks his clawed hands into the hair on either side of Mary’s head and starts fucking into Mary’s mouth hard and fast. Between the hold of both Ghouls’ hands and Dewdrop’s tail, all Mary can do is take it. He tries to breathe through his nose as he makes little _glup_ noises while Swiss rams into his throat with every thrust. Snot runs out of his nose, and tears stream out of his eyes—the latter of which Dew rubs the sensitive part of his cock through.

“Fuckin’ love it when you’re nice and wet, Mare,” rumbles Dew.

Mary’s cock is also hard and leaking precum, but neither Ghoul seems—in this moment—to care about that wetness.

“Oh fuck, I’m close,” pants Swiss right before he starts destroying Mary’s mouth. He widens his stance before he starts slamming his hips into Mary’s face; Mary shifts and whines, but Dewdrop holds him in place.

“You’re gonna be a good boy and take it. Take his fucking cock. Swallow it down real pretty.”

Mary moans, and Swiss growls sharply. 

“I’m gonna knot your mouth!” he pants. “I’m gonna knot your— _fuckfuckfuck_ …” He shoves his swelling knot past Mary’s plump lips and roars as he cums down his throat. Mary jerks and twitches, and Swiss snarls as he grinds his expanding knot in Mary’s warm, wet mouth. Dew sighs as he rubs against Mary’s body and pets his cheeks and the column of his bulging neck.

Swiss is still squirming and twitching, and Mary is looking up at him with wet eyes when Dewdrop—moaning—licks his pulse point and sinks his fangs in.

Just a little. 

Mary jerks with a grunt, and Swiss hisses as the movement jostles his sensitive knot.

“Shit, Dew—knock it the fuck off or we’ll be here all night.”

Dew just grins and licks the blood off his fangs while Mary relaxes into the cock stuck down his throat.

While waiting for his knot to go down, Swiss strokes Mary’s face and tells him he’s a good boy. Dew reclines on the floor and wipes his hand through the mess of Mary’s precum before he starts slowly stroking Mary’s cock. Closing his eyes, Mary is content to let the Ghouls pet him while he floats.

When Swiss’s knot deflates enough, he slowly pulls out of Mary’s mouth and is entranced by the sticky lines of spit that connect his cock to Mary’s lips. His eyes still fixated on the abused area of Mary’s face, Swiss watches as Mary’s mouth drops open; he grins as he shows the pool of cum on his tongue before he swallows it down.

“That’s nasty, Mare,” snorts Swiss, even though he’s already thinking of how he can coat Mary’s tongue for round 2.

Mary swallows and licks his swollen, puffy lips. “I’m a nasty boy. Gimme a beat.”

Dewdrop stands up. “Hold him,” he snarls at Swiss. His tail unwinds from around Mary’s wrists only to coil around his neck. 

Soft cock bouncing as he shifts, Swiss moves behind Mary and restrains his wrists with one big hand.

“He’s all yours, Dewy my boi.”

Dew winds his fingers into the back of Mary’s hair before wrenching his head back, forcing his jaw open.

“I’m gonna make your neck gape as wide as your ass, nasty boy.”

Mary just smiles and opens his mouth wider.


	17. Bukkake – F!Reader x Era 4 Ghouls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bukkake – F!Reader x Era 4 Ghouls
> 
> Swiss, Dew, Rain, Aether, & Mountain use you for target practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Face fucking

There’s a cock in your mouth hitting the back of your throat as you jack the two in your hand. You’ve been allowed a pillow under your knees, but otherwise you’re bare as the day you came into this world. The Ghouls want to make sure you’re covered in their jizz from top to bottom.

Your face was the first target of their release, and you can still feel some of it dripping off your chin and one earlobe. After Dewdrop shot you in the eye, you’d kept them both closed, and you can feel how your lashes are now stuck together.

The cock currently fucking your face is Aether’s—fat and heavy on your tongue—and you can hear the breathy pants that fall from his lips with each thrust. Swiss moans as you twist your fist over his slick cockhead, but Rain just curls his tail around your neck tighter as you jack him at a steady pace.

“Shit, I’m gonna …” wheezes Aether.

A hand grips into your hair and starts shoving you down on his cock so that you almost gag.

“Fucking yeah. Let’s frost this bitch,” comes Dew’s voice from behind you.

“Yeah, Aeth! Get her tits. Wanna see them all shiny!” says Rain.

Snarling, Aether pulls his cock free from your mouth; in the next moment you feel his hot release hit your sternum and tits, and you can hear his bracelets clink together as he jacks himself through his climax.

“Shit, that’s hot as fuck,” breathes Swiss.

You lick your lips and make an “ah” sound as you open your mouth wide

“Aw, fuck. You want more, dontcha, sweetheart?” rumbles Dew.

“Need some thick Ghoul cock in my mouth,” you purr.

“Yeah, I knew exactly what bitches like you need.”

You keep your mouth wide, expecting Dewdrop’s cock … but instead, the press of Mountain’s giant one pushes past your lips and forces your jaw open. You gurgle a little as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth cavity.

“ShitShitShit,” chants Swiss as he pulls his dick from your hand. His sticky cum hits the side of your neck and drips down your shoulder.

“Hot damn!” he says at the same time as Dew says, “Nice!”, and then you hear the sharp slap of a high five.

Dew’s rubs his cock on your face. “My dick ain’t gonna jerk itself.”

You take Dew in hand just as Rain’s tail gets tighter around your neck and he hisses, “Yeah, yeah—fuck her face, Mounty. Split those pretty lips.”

Before long, Rain bats your hand away, and you can feel his white jizz shoot across your chest to mix with Aether’s. You hear the low rumble of Mountain’s moan right before he twitches hard into your throat, and you sputter, coughing spit out around his cock. He doesn’t stop, though, and you feel Dew’s hand rest once again on the back of your head to keep you in place.

“How’s it going, mate?” asks Aether, and Mountain responds with a low, “Feels good.”

“Fuck, I want her sweet mouth next,” pants Dew as your hand massages his dick.

“Bud, just don’t knot her this time, and it’s all yours,” you hear Aether say before he guides your free hand to his soft cock. You fumble clumsily at him—most of your concentration on not choking and on keeping Dewdrop satisfied—and he wraps his big hand around yours to help guide you.

Except the tail Rain likes to keep around your throat—which is gone for the moment—you haven’t been paying too much attention to the swish of them on your skin; Ghouls’ tails twitch and sway when excited, so it’s not unusual to feel them on you. So when the spade of one slithers down your thigh, you don’t pay it much heed until it spreads your lips and begins rubbing your clit.

You moan loudly and spread your legs, your hands stuttering a bit.

“Man, she’s like a Ghouleh in heat,” you hear Swiss say from further off.

“Fuck, don’t let the girls hear you say that. They’ll put another hole in your ass,” chuckles Dew.

“Lucky me,” Swiss counters.

Mountain is beginning to shake, his thrusts slowing, as he whines, “Need … need …” Aether places your hand onto the base of Mountain’s cock—where his knot would form—and you give it a good squeeze.

He roars and yanks his cock out or your mouth, and you’re inordinately pleased when you feel the wet ropes splatter on your chest and belly. He doesn’t grunt, but you can hear his heavy breathing as he runs his sensitive cockhead through the mess on your skin.

“All right, bub, shift it. I want in.” 

Dewdrop says it good-naturedly, but you can still sense him jostling Mountain out of the way. You’re not surprised when Dew crams his cock in your mouth without ceremony and grips the back of your head so he can fuck your face. “Yeah, that’s the good shit.”

Aether guides you back to his now hard, leaking cock just as Swiss approaches and says, “This hand taken, dudes?”

You make a grabby motion with your free hand as Dewdrop grunts his approval, and Aether says, “Her sides could use a good coating.”

The tail between your legs is rubbing at you again, and you’re eagerly jacking both Ghouls while gagging around Dewdrop’s cock—your spit dripping off your chin to mingle with the semen on your chest. You can’t moan, but you’re letting out little mewls of pleasure as the Ghouls use you to chase their release. When a claw lightly traces the line of your spine, you flinch a little, but there’s nowhere to go.

“There’s nothing on her back yet, guys,” Rain says as he grabs your ass. “How come we’re not using all her holes?”

“Fuck, shit,” hisses Dew, and then he’s pulling out of your mouth, his cum splattering you from your clavicle to your belly roll as he grunts through his orgasm. His tail goes with him, and when you whine, another takes its place.

Aether chuckles at Rain. “Would you want to pull out of her warm cunt?”

Rain sighs. “I guess not. But still—we could _try_.”

Aether’s warm hand runs across your shoulders as you flex your aching jaw muscles. He leans down to whisper into your ear. “It’s looking to be a long night, love. Let us know if your arms get tired, and we’ll try not to waste our cum in those tight holes of yours.”

“No promises, though, girlee” hisses Rain as he taps his cock on your lips for entrance; as soon as you take him in, you feel his tail once again slither around your neck.

You hear Dew snort before he squats down behind you and grips onto the sides of your head. “ _I’m_ gonna nut in each hole before we’re done with you, sweetheart—gotta make sure you’re coated everywhere.”


	18. Coercion – Papa II x Sister of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coercion – Papa II x Sister of Sin
> 
> Papa II always gets what he wants

When Papa sees her, he has to have her for his collection. She’s a healthy woman, and he’s already imagining how his harnesses will accentuate all her curves; he can already feel her supple skin under his grip as he grabs handfuls of it. He’s itching to know what her hair looks like under her veil—will it be close-cropped so he can scrub his hands through it, or will it be long enough for him to wrap around his hand and tug.

It’s not an obsession— _it’s not_ —he just likes to check in on her. She’s lovely when she’s kneeling out in the quad to plant new flowers. She’s captivating when her cheeks are bright with mirth from laughing with her friends in the mess hall. She’s endearing when she sings completely off-key in the choir.

He wants to see her down on those ruddy knees, cheeks flushed from his ministrations, and hear her tone-deaf voice singing along to his tune.

When one of his Ghouls comes back with word that she’s not entangled with either of his brothers or the Rat, it’s the best news he’s had since finding the compilation of Terzo eating stage that’s all over the interwebs.

So now he sits in his study, smoothing the pages of the questionnaire and contract—even though the packet is straight from the printer. He’s summoned her to his quarters, so he expects his Ghoul to be back with her at any moment now. He wonders how sweet she’ll smell, and his dick twitches in interest. He tells it to behave. He’s not an animal.

When she’s shown in, her face is uncharacteristically pale, but her fists are clenched tight at her sides.

_Spirit_. He can’t wait to break that.

When she’s seated and the pleasantries are dispensed with, Papa gets to the point.

“I’d like you to be one of my pets, Sister. I have here the—”

“No thank you.”

He pauses, hand midway to the top leafs. He quirks an eyebrow.

“ _Mi scusi_?”

She fidgets. “No thank you, _Papa_.”

He leans back in his armchair, finger on lips, and considers her.

“Just like that, Sister?” He waves his hand “Without a thought?”

Body ridged, she uncrosses and recrosses her legs.

“I joined this Church to serve only one Lord, and that’s Lucifer.”

Papa steeples his hands.

“But I am His emissary on Earth. To sin with me is to sin with Him.”

She smoothes down her habit. “My sinning is a private matter between Him and me. I am uninterested in …” she waves her hand at him, “a proxy.”

Papa’s stomach drops, and anger bubbles under the surface. Doesn’t she know what an _honor_ it is to be chosen by him? How many others would kill to have the chance? And she says, “No”? The boiling anger turns into a quickening of his blood.

He _needs_ this beguiling creature in his harem. He needs to redirect her devotion to _him_.

Regarding her, he makes a quick decision on how to go about changing her mind.

“I see, Sister.” He makes a dismissive gesture. “You may go, then. Ghoul?”

His Ghoul bleeds out of the shadows.

“T-that’s it, Papa?” she says.

Secondo arches his brow.

“I only lavish my attentions on my pets, Sister. And my pets _beg_ for it. I don’t chase after coquettes.”

She still looks at him in suspicion, but then the Ghoul takes ahold of her elbow to lead her away. When she reaches the door, he speaks.

“Oh, just one thing—” she turns around, and he waggles the stack of paper, “—please grant me a boon and keep these. In case you ever change your mind. The offer has no expiration.”

She gives him a flat look, but accepts the packet when the Ghoul places them in her hands.

He’s scheming even before the door closes.

When he’d decided on making her an offer, he’d requested her file just so he’d know her background—now he knows how to use it against her.

An Initiate in good standing, she’d requested and received a single due to her inversion and quiet nature. So he files papers to have a loquacious first-year—fresh off the plane from Kentucky—be assigned to squeeze in with her.

Simple. Innocuous. Could happen to anyone. Singles are a privilege not a guarantee.

Then he has her switched from library duty—a position she loves—to the mess. Her counterpart is a bratty legacy he’d kept in the kitchens because it amused him, so it’s not outside the world of possibility money exchanged hands to have the change made.

Next he has her removed from the choir—which, again, is totally reasonable: she couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket. 

Maybe switching with Terzo so she has to confess to him instead is a little hamfisted, but the goal was never to remain subtle. In that vein, he inserts himself wherever she is: in the corner of the mess hall at meals; at the side of the quad when she’s working on the flowers; passing by her door as she’s leaving for chores. 

He never acknowledges her, never gets within 100ft of her—but his soft presence is a threat all the same: I know where you are at all times; I know how to get to you. (Maybe sending one of his Ghouls to scratch at the other side of the walls when she’s alone is cruel, but—well—he’s never been accused of being a _nice_ man.)

And he thinks he’s wearing on her if the circles under her eyes and the jumpiness is anything to go by.

He spends a lovely day at her parent’s house playing with her baby sister. Her mother is a wonderful cook, and her father has excellent cigars. He tells them how well she’s doing and what a delight she is to have as a Sibling. They send him off with a doggie bag and a standing invitation.

Wonderful family, really. Hope they stay in the best of health.

The accident with her best friend truly was that. The silly thing has stepped on the top rung of a ladder to change a light bulb. Total freak accident! Of course, he wasn’t past using the unfortunate incident to his advantage. All he had to do was send flowers to the poor girl (and ask his brothers not to), then offer her a position on his staff.

A week later, the sweet Sister was at his door again. Despite having one of his other pets between his legs with his soft cock in their mouth, he’d granted her entry.

Though she stormed in and slapped the ream of paper on his desk—balking only slightly at the scene in front of her—he was nothing but the picture of courtesy, offering her a seat and refreshment.

“This is what you wanted, wasn’t it?” she seethes tapping at the pile.

He leans back in his chair and sips his espresso as he strokes his pet’s hair (his very good pet who doesn’t shift at all). “I was very upfront, dear Sister, about what I wanted.”

“So I agree to be one of your pets,” she gestures at the mop of hair between his legs, "and it all stops?”

Papa tilts his head at her. “All what stops?”

She slams her first down on her thigh. “You know what.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

She trembles in anger, and he can’t wait to see her tremble under his swing.

“ _Fine_ , play your games, but I see you, Papa. Don’t think I don’t see what you’re about.” He gives her a Gaelic shrug. “If I join your harem, you stop … everything else?”

“Sister, you storm into my personal quarters during my play time, and you demand I accept your offer?”

Her mouth gapes. “My … offer?”

“You offer yourself as one of my pets for my favor, no?”

Her fists and teeth clench. “Yes.”

He just leans back in his chair and taps his pet on the cheek. They look up at him with glazed eyes.

“You may go for now.”

They give him a pout, and he can’t blame them—he is intruding on their time.

“I will make it up to you, _dolce_ ,” he coos as he thumbs at their cheek. “Sir is fair, is he not?”

Reluctantly, but obediently, they rise to a standing position and make their way out of the suite. 

He doesn’t tuck his cock back into his slacks.

“I can give you favor. Status. Protection. What can you offer that’s good enough to entice me, Sister?”

“Me. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Secondo waves off her words and leans on his hand. “Pliant bodies are a dime a dozen in this Church, Sister.” He traces his soft cock with a fingertip. “What can you give me that I want?”

Her eyes follow his movements.

“You want me to … to pleasure you orally?”

“I want you to beg for it.”

Her face pinches, but she sinks to her knees stiffly. He spreads his legs and waits for her. Face full of contempt, she knees over to him, her hands stroking up his inner thighs.

“I-I want your cock, Papa.”

“ _Convince me_.”

She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and her face smooths. When she opens her eyes again, they’re wide, and she looks up at him from under her lashes.

“Please, s-sir. I want your cock. Will you give me your cock?”

He puts a finger under her chin.

“What makes you think you deserve my cock, Child?”

There’s a flash—albeit briefly—of fury, before her eyes soften again.

“Please, sir. I want to feel you in my mouth, want you heavy on my tongue so bad. Please favor me with your cum. I want to suck it down and be filled with His body.”

Her eyes glare, but she tilts back her head and opens her mouth wide enough her tongue drops out.

Oh yes. He can’t wait to break her.


	19. Begging – Papa III x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Begging – Papa III x F!Reader
> 
> Why is your guard gone, and where are you being taken to?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a sad one, guys.
> 
> character death  
> ritual blood letting  
> angst

You met Terzo for the first time in the Abbey quad. You’d been crying over an upbraiding from Sister Imperator, and he’d sat down beside you, handing you one of his monogrammed hankies. When you’d tried to give it back, he’d told you to keep it—so he’d have a reason to see you again.

On your first proper date, he’d shown you up to a hidden loft in the rafters of the Chapel. You’d passed an expensive bottle of wine back and forth like it was a forty, and he’d hummed melodies that echoed ethereally off the domed ceiling. The two of you had even scared off an altar Ghoul by making “OoOo” noises.

The first time you’d made love, you’d been a bundle of nerves—you were just **you** and he was _Papa_ ; his reputation as an excellent lover preceded him. But he’d lavished your body with his tongue and lips, all the while making jokes about his physique and making fart noises. After a while, you were too giddy to be nervous, and he’d lived up to his rep.

When your dad had died suddenly, Terzo had quietly made travel arrangements for you both. Free of his usual pomp, he’d held your hand through the eulogies and made sure you ate at the luncheon after. He’d charmed your mother, whose face had been a mask of grief, and gotten her to smile. (You also suspect he was the anonymous donor who paid for the funeral, but you never were able to prove it.)

Touring was hard for you, but he called when he wasn’t exhausted, and the two of you made use of the video chat. Every week, you received a packet of letters written in his chicken scrawl that smelled of his sweet cologne and a bunch of kitschy souvenirs. Your favorite was a cheese hat that he joked to keep away from Copia lest he feed it to his rats. You made it a point to include the hat as a censor in all your nudes to him. He responded by holding a Statue of Liberty figurine in front of himself.

The two of you had talked about installing you as his Primer Mover, but he had reservations about putting you in the hot seat, and you had reservations about having a child at your age. It was an ongoing conversation spoken softly between yourselves in the dark of his bedchamber as he held you close and safe. Speaking it out loud made him paranoid enough that he’d assigned one of his Ghouls to shadow you. You called him “Bob,” and left him little treats and trinkets to show your appreciation.

* * *

A Ghoul wakes you from a deep sleep in the middle of the night, and you know it can’t be good. Bob is nowhere in sight, and your heart drops into your stomach. Papa had been so distant lately, and you’d tried to tell yourself that it was nothing—he’s a busy man, after all—but he does have the pick of the litter. So many willing bodies in the congregation and so many fresh, new faces on tour. Despite all his sweet talk, you’d been preparing for this day in a small place in your heart since he first showed you his favor: the day you lost Terzo’s favor.

When the Ghoul starts leading you away from his suite, a new fear wells up in you: your relationship threatens the plan Nihil has for his son, and you’re about to disappear. Is that what’s with the cloak and dagger? Get rid of your protector then lead you into the depths of the Abbey? Will they make you write a Dear John letter? Will Papa wake up tomorrow and be told you’ve left him in the dead of night?

By the time you reach the intended room, you’re trembling and your heart is beating in your ears. 

Will your bowels release in death? Will they clean you up? A proper burial that befits a Sister of Lucifer, or just dumped in a shallow grave?

The Ghoul opens the door with his full arm, a silent command to enter before him. Shaking, stomach full of bile, you slip into the room.

At first, your brain doesn’t process what your eyes are taking in—why is Papa in this wing? Why is he sleeping here? And why is Sister Imperator watching over him?

Hearing you approach, Imperator looks up.

“Ah, you’re here, Sister.” She pats you on the shoulder. “You may have a moment,” she says before shuffling away. You look after her in confusion. When she reaches the door, she looks back over her shoulder. “Sorry for your loss.”

Your head snaps back to the … the stone slab.

“What?” you cry out. You bend forward to grab his hand, but it’s cold, clammy, and your blood freezes in your veins.

“Papa? Papa? Terzo? _My love_?”

When he does not wake, you clutch his shirt in your fists and shake him.

“Papa, _please_. It’s me! It’s your sweet girl. Please, Papa—wake up!”

He still makes no movement, so you climb on top on the slab and press your body into him, as if you can transfer the warmth of your body into his.

“Oh no, please! My love, please wake up! I’m here, now. You can open your eyes. _Please open your eyes_!” 

You’re screaming now, but the only witness to your grief is the Ghoul who stands sentry.

“Damnit, Terzo! You have to _wake up and GET OFF THIS SLAB_!”

You slap his face; it does nothing, and you gasp at your action.

“Oh!” you mewl. “I’m sorry, Papa … I-I didn’t mean …” You bend down to kiss his check where your strike landed, but his skin is cool under your lips. Lifeless.

Tears had been leaking out of your eyes, but now you let out a sob.

“No! Oh no! No no no!”

His face is bare, and you turn to the Ghoul.

“Where is his face paint? He needs his face paint. He’s _Papa_.”

The Ghoul’s eyes just stare at you from under his mask.

"He’s Papa!” you scream again, and this time the door opens; Sister Imperator comes back in, and she looks as she always does: done with everything.

“Are you quite finished, Sister?”

You slip off the stone and storm over to her.

“Bring him _back_. I know you can.” You grab into the fabric of her habit. “Bring back _Papa_.”

She looks down at you. “He’s gone, Child.”

You scream into her face, sobbing, and slip down to your knees. You grab her ankles, then kiss the hem of her habit.

“Please, Sister. _Please_. Bring him back. I’m begging you, _please_.”

You feel her hand softly stroke your hair. 

“He is with Lucifer now. You should rejoice that he has a place next to our Dark Lord.”

You press your forehead to the cold, damp floor.

“O Olde One, my Dark Lord—please hear my supplication! I entreat you! Bring back Papa Emeritus, the 3rd of his name. Please, sweet Lucifer, who I serve—I beseech you to bring him back!” You shift up, grab the Ghoul’s hand, and slash his sharp claws through your palm. “I bleed for you now, and I’ll do much more if you’ll only ask it of me—just … **_bring him back_**!” Your head tips back, and you sob. “ _Please_.”

The three of you wait, listening for any sound, _any_ noise that would herald the resurrection of your lover.

But he is lost to you forever.


	20. Gagging – Mary x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gagging – Mary x Reader
> 
> Mary's got a lot he wants to put in your mouth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Face Fuck  
> Degradation

Mary doesn’t give a fuck. You said he could use your face, and he took it at—well—face value. But no matter … you love it when he uses you, love it when treats you like trash and calls you a whore. Other guys hadn’t been able to take it far enough … hadn’t been able to scratch that itch.

But: Mary doesn’t give a fuck about anyone’s delicate sensibilities.

It’s why you’re in the alley behind the club, on your knees, and with a face full of cock. Mary is using your mouth like it’s his own personal pocket pussy and he can ride it as hard as he wants.

“So my little whore likes my cock, huh?” he snarls as he thrusts hard into you. His hand is gripped into the roots of your hair so that he can force your head down. It’s not a blow job—the only thing you’re doing is keeping your teeth out of the way as Mary treats you like a sex doll.

He shoves his cock roughly down your throat, and you sputter and gag around it. “Do you like it now? Now that you have to eat it?”

You make a choked noise, trying to suck in air that’s never going to make it to your lungs.

“Yeah … yeah, you do. Listen to you take it.”

Your stomach heaves, and you convulse, trying to relax your throat.

“Go ‘head—let it all out, you fucking slut. It’s just more lube for me.”

He grinds his dick in harder, and you’re helpless to stop the spew since you’re starting to see spots on the edges of your vision as well. It’s only once you’ve spit up around his cock does he let go of your head, and you’re free to gasp in air as you cough. He’s smirking at you even as you’re trying to spit the bile out of your mouth.

“Fuck, baby—guess my dick’s just too much for you to handle.”

Before you have a chance to respond, his dick is back in your mouth and hitting the back of your throat. Spit, snot, and whatever you gagged up coats your chin and the inside of your nostrils, but Mary is moaning every time his pelvis comes flush with your face. Tears burn in your eyes, and Mary rumbles his approval as he swipes a thumb through them.

“Yeah, wanna see what my cock does to you, baby. I ain’t like the other men—you can cry in front of me.” He sucks the saline-coated pad of his thumb into his mouth. “Love the way you taste.”

You obey him, letting the tears streak unfettered by your lashes down your cheeks while your nose runs and you feel your own saliva dribble off your chin onto your thighs. Sometimes he allows you to use a hand, and your fluid runs down your arm to drip off your elbow, but tonight your arms are behind your back, clasped at the wrist; you’re wholly dependent on Mary to keep you from careening in any direction.

Mary once again presses your head down so that your nose is in his short & curlies and your airway is blocked once more. You squirm in discomfort, but he just applies more pressure to the back of your head.

“Nuh-uh. Fucking take it. You should be able to floss with my pubes when I’m done with you.”

You're making little mewling noises of distress as you shift, but you know Mary won’t let you up—he knows _you_ don’t want him to let you up, knows you’d rather gag all over his dick again than for him to show you any kind of quarter.

It’s why the two of you work so well together.

He’s trembling a little as the spots in your visions start to come back, and he’s babbling, “Oh god, oh Jesus, oh fuck … I could cum just like this. Fuck, baby—can you hold out? Can I cum down your throat?”

You want to do this for him, but you’re only human, and soon you’re dry heaving around his cock—making terrible hacking noises as you do—and Mary’s forced to let you go again. This time you fall down onto your hands as your empty stomach convulses violently to expel something— _anything_ , even if it’s air—from your body. While you’re free of his dick, you draw in great gulps of air, trying to blow some of the toxic snot from your nose as you cough.

His fist flying and his chest heaving—with one hand still resting on the back of your head—Mary jacks his cock as he watches you retch. When your gasping slows, he uses the hand tangled in your hair to yank you back up into a kneeling position. He wrenches your head back as he guides his cock back into you.

“Take a deep breath, cum whore—I’m gonna fuck your throat so hard my load’s gonna shoot out your nose.”

Eyes rolling back, you loosen your jaw.


	21. Orgasm Denial – Copia x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Orgasm Denial – Copia x Reader
> 
> He can plead all he wants—you're not going to let Copia cum.

“ _Please_ ,” he whines as if he doesn’t know the rules. As if this week is going to differ from any other week since Copia became yours to play with.

He sits in a chair, arms tied at the wrists behind the chair back, as you slowly jack his thick cock. He’s flushed enough that his freckles are no longer stark against his skin, and his nipples and cock are dusky with arousal. The lube mixes with his precum to create a sticky, squelching mess for your fist to glide through.

You’ve been going at it for hours, taking breaks when you got tired or after deciding that you both could stand to hydrate; you’d even gotten yourself off a few times, but you haven’t allowed him to reach a sweet release—you haven’t even ruined one—and you know his balls must ache as much as his purple cock is a raw nerve.

He’s close again—or he wouldn’t be begging you to let him cum—and you give him a few more jacks as he trembles with _need_ before you release him from your grip. He groans and jerks, his hips thrusting after you as if the air will provide him some relief.

“I’ve been so good, _Dominante_!” Tears trickle down his face, and you revel in the way they make his eye paint streak down his cheeks. “I’ve been such a good rat. _Please_ let me cum!”

You make a _tetch_ noise and flick the tip of his cock. He squeals as you say, “If you were such a good Rat, you wouldn’t be begging me to cum. What day do you get to cum?”

“F-Fridays, _Dominante_ ,” he pants.

“And what day is it?” You cross your arms.

His head hangs. “Wednesday, _Dominante_.”

Walking in a circle around the chair, you rest on the back of it, leaning down into his ear as you say, “In fact, since you’ve been such a whiner, I think what you deserve is the big guns.”

Copia’s head shoots up. “Wait—no! I-I am sorry, _Dominante_! I’ll be better! Please don’t—”

You yank his head back so that he has to look at you upside down.

“The time to be better was when it counted, Rat.”

When you let his head go, it falls forward limply. As you dig in your toy chest, you can hear him cry softly behind you. Triumphantly, you pull out the wand and click it on. The hum drowns out his little mewls, but you can still see him trembling with each sob.

Placing the tip under his chin, you tilt his head up, and his wet, reddened eyes look at you in contrition. 

“Now, what do we say?” you purr as you tap the wand on his lips. He gives the tip a kiss before giving a tremulous, “Thank you.”

You cup his cheek in your hand—and he leans into the touch—before you apply the vibrating wand to the head of his cock. He yowls—nearly taking the chair off its legs—and precum squirts out of his tip as he lets out a piteous wail, knowing that this will not have a happy ending. You trace the wand down the vein in his cock and let it rest at the base.

Copia’s chest heaves as he moans out, “Ah ah ah!” 

Watching him closely, you trace the outline of his balls; when he starts swallowing with audible gulps—sweat running down the splotchy red of his neck—and tensing in pulses, you remove the wand entirely.

Copia lets out a long whine that ends in a pathetic whimper as his whole body slumps. He’s crying without restraint now as he rolls his hips and mutters in Italian. So lost is he in his tragedy that he doesn’t notice you pick up the cock cage?

When you press your body into his—holding his head to your stomach—Copia leans into you readily as he sobs.

“There he is. There’s my good Rat. You took everything so well, rodent. Your _Dominante_ is proud of you. There you go … let it out.”

You let him cry it out as you stroke your fingers through his hair, and only once his sobs peter out to sniffles do you pull yourself away again. He tries to follow your warmth, but he’s stuck in place, and he whimpers at the loss.

“Just one more thing, then we can get you out of those ties and into a nice bath, hmm?” You squat down so you can get him into the cage.

Copia blinks stupidly at you—his damp lashes clumped together prettily—until he realizes what you’re about to do.”

“Wait— _Dominante_ … _please_!”

Heedless of his pleading, you stuff his still hard cock into the metal cage.


	22. Voyeurism – Copia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voyeurism – Copia
> 
> Copia looks in on some exciting things.

There are passageways behind the walls of the Abbey—some of them are legit … and others are tight spaces between the frame and the insulation. In theory, Copia knew they existed, but even the Emeritus brothers had raised their arms up in a shrug when asked about blueprints.

It was Copia’s Ghouls who had truly shown him how to navigate through the innards of the old place. Dew has told him the passages are “just quicker,” but Copia knows he uses them for his own nefarious purposes. He lets it go because Dew is happy to share his best spots with him and to make sure he knows where all the “exits” are.

Copia’s come to learn that most of the Abbey Ghouls use the passages, and they’re just as happy to leave him to his own devices if he gives them a quick nod as they squeeze flush by each other and lets them go about their business.

At first, he just set about exploring—getting purposefully lost so he could connect passages in his head—but as he grew more confident, he’d been compelled to _explore_. Obviously, the muffled noises he’d heard as he walked through the passages were the sounds of life in the Abbey, but it took him weeks to investigate the little holes of light that shone through the walls like little pinpricks of sun.

To his initial horror (and following delight), he’d found each hole corresponded with a room in the Abbey: the kitchens; the infirmary; a few studies … but the majority of them looked in on dorm rooms—Sisters, Brothers, Ghouls.

Most of what Copia saw were mundane things: Ghouls cutting veggies; sick congregation members being treated; admin shuffling through paperwork; and Ghouls chittering away in their Hell language (though quite a few of the Ghouls’ openings had socks stuffed in them) … but he also stumbled upon the more lascivious acts.

The first time had been a rush—first of embarrassment … then of excitement. Face pressed into the dusty wood frame, cobwebs tangling in his mustache, Copia had eagerly strained to make out the good bits while palming his growing erection. He’d watched hips pump in desperation and heard the slap of skin on skin as the two lovers moaned and gasped their way toward completion. Biting his fist, he’d cum in his pants not long after the two had grunted through their climax.

In the coming weeks, Copia had toured the labyrinthine passages extensively with a little day planner. He’d exited again with pants that stuck to his crotch and thighs, and a loose schedule of “events” (for Reasons). 

Now whenever the stress of the Church has his head aching and his eyeballs twitching, he checks his event planner and makes his way back through the walls. He’s long since outfitted his favorite areas with a little folding chair or knee cushion and a hanging trash bag he empties every week or so.

He likes to tease himself: build his hard-on up slow as he rubs it through his pants. When the duos—or trios or softball teams—start to fuck with their faces, hands, and other bits, that’s when he finally takes himself out; he gives himself a few loose strokes while he watches them rub, grind, and become slick with each other. Once they settle into a steady rhythm—moans and dirty talk falling from their lips—Copia dribbles the lube on himself.

Gasping at the exquisite sensation of wetness on his throbbing cock, he twists his hand around his sensitive cockhead a few times, reveling in the way it ratchets his arousal up to 11. His breath hitches as he swallows back a moan. Occasionally, as a treat, he shoves the panties of a willing Sibling in his mouth, gagging himself but also filling his senses with that sweet ambrosia.

Sometimes he teases himself by alternating strokes or rolling his balls, but other times his hand flies fast between his thighs. He likes to time his climax with them, but sometimes he just wants to cum, and he finishes soon enough that he can take a breather and set up for round 2.

Tissue balled in his free hand, he starts jacking himself the way he likes it (fast, loose strokes with an occasional squeeze to the tip)—his eyes firmly fixed on the flesh before him—until he feels the electric feeling of impending orgasm. It’s coming—there’s no stopping it now—and he grips his base, grunting in pleasure as he feels his hot cum rush through his dick.

He continues stroking his dick as he jerks and twitches through the aftershocks—he doesn’t always quite catch _all_ the jizz in the tissue—slowing only when his tip becomes too sensitive to touch. Sighing, he allows himself to luxuriate in the post-release afterglow for a few beats (every now and then he nods off), before he tidies himself up.

Saying a brief prayer of thanks to Lucifer, Copia adjusts his clothes and gives the lovers on the other side of the wall a nod and a wink.

Sometimes a Ghoul winks back.


	23. Papa II x Siblings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa II x Siblings
> 
> Papa is always around to give a firm hand to those who need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spanking  
> Humiliation

Papa II takes his duties seriously. He runs the Ghost project as a business, and he confirms that all his paperwork is properly executed. He’s a Hard Dom, and he makes sure all his pets know he takes a hard line on his rules: if you break them, you will be punished.

What started out as a one-time punishment to break-in a new pet has become something he looks forward to at the end of a long week of Church bullshit. She’d pushed his boundaries hard, as if daring him to do his worst. So do his worst, he did.

That week at the end of Mass, he’d had his Ghouls escort her up to the pulpit, and then he’d spanked her soundly. He’d instructed those assembled to count out her strikes while she had to say 100 times that she would not transgress again.

It wasn’t even a particularly hard spanking—the real punishment was to let the whole congregation know what a bad girl she was, to let them know her shame at being unable to follow the rules as a grown-ass adult. He wanted them all to see her red, blotchy face and hear her crying as the sting had turned into a burning throb. He’d hoped they’d all titter behind cupped hands and mealtimes and bring it up frequently—to keep the embarrassment fresh in her mind.

The reception had surpassed his wildest imaginings. He’d seen more than one hand pressed between legs at that Mass, and it had been the talk of the Abbey for a full two weeks. His pet had tried to hide in her room, but he’d quietly reminded her that their time together wasn’t an excuse to disrupt her daily Abbey life, and she’d sullenly resumed.

She’d been much more receptive to his standards after that.

It was such a success, he’d decided to make it a weekly event (and was delighted when he heard the Siblings refer to it as “Papa’s Punishment Hour”). Now when his pets are bad, they know they’re going to be ass up in front of the congregation. And if he’s sometimes more exacting with his ideas on what constitutes a rule violation, and if they sometimes flaunt them, well.

He loves to start out with his hand, bending the Sibling over his knee and giving their bare cheeks a firm swat as the assembly counts. And, oh! What lovely sounds his pets make as they sniffle and waver while he cherries their ass. This care he reserves for his Level 1 offenders, so after them, he gives his hand a break. 

For his Level 2 offenders, he brings out the hairbrush. Securing his pets with one of his sturdy legs, he lets his arm fly as his pets blubber and cry out while he peppers their sit spots. He loves seeing the little wet puddles on the floor from the snot and tears as they tremble and jerk in his hold.

He saves Level 3 for his Ghouls, who are of much sturdier stock. Being way less fragile than their human counterparts opens a whole new world of pain for Papa to explore. Forget his lap: he buckles the hell beasts onto a bench—securing their tails away from the impact zone—and after rolling up his sleeves, he really lets go with his favorite wooden paddle. It’s just as gratifying to hear the screeches and squeals of a Ghoul in pain after the satisfying _crack_ of wood on skin as it is to hear the sobbing of a human pet. 

Papa still thinks with relish of the one occasion he’d whacked a Ghoul so hard, its mask had popped off. Spank bank material for months.

Of course, some weeks his pets are very good, and while he does so enjoy calling his pets out on minor infractions, he’s not going to make them up just so he can get his jollies out. He’d been surprised when one Sibling had asked shyly if _they_ could be spanked. When he’d raised his eyebrows and asked if any others felt that way, his stomach had flipped when a smattering of hands had shot up. 

Who was he to deny his flock a public shaming when there were so many willing to sacrifice their flesh?

Now, with these tourists, he’s never as harsh—they’re not one of his _pets_ , he doesn’t _know_ them inside and out—even if it’s clear they crave the hurt and humiliation only he can dole out. But that doesn’t mean he won’t thrash them ‘til their asses are good and crimson and they’re begging him to stop (knowing he’ll only respond if they call Red).

Unlike the first time, Papa does punishments at the start of Mass. He loves watching his pets, and the others have to sit on their sore bottoms until his sermon is over. It gives him such a hard-on watching them squirm in their seats, oftentimes bringing fresh waves of tears. As an added bonus, he inwardly chuckles when he watches the other parishioners wiggling in the pews for very different reasons. 

Have his sermons gotten longer since then? Maybe. (And if he hides a pet in the lectern to relive him of his … situation … afterwards, well—it’s his prerogative as Papa, no?)


	24. Oral – Papa III x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Oral – Papa III x F!Reader
> 
> You and Papa make love with your mouths

Papa had been playing you like a fiddle all night. His tongue had traced the shell of your ear and then your lobe; his mouth had sucked gently down your neck and on your nipples; his fingers had traced lightly down your skin and dipped into your folds. By the time you felt his hard-on press into your hip, you were ready to turn your mouth into a hoover.

Moaning as he felt your warm, wet mouth sink down around him, Papa had lightly tangled his fingers into your hair. You gave him a languid blow job—your bobs slow and sloppy as you followed each suck with your tight fist. Occasionally, you’d stopped to twist your lips around his tip and to run your tongue along the ridge while you rolled his spit-slick balls in your hand.

You’d kept up this pace until Papa’s grip had tightened, and he’d panted, “Faster, oh please, _mia cara_ ” at you. Then you’d wrapped your lips over your teeth—giving him that delicious, tight pressure he craved—and went about sucking his brains out of his dick. He’d groaned, his free hand clenching in the sheets and his hips twitching as he tried not to thrust hard into your mouth.

When he’d started gasping _AhAhAh_ , you knew he was close, and you’d hummed around his cock—delighted when you’d felt his hardness become turgid. He’d given a stuttering grunt, and then you’d tasted his salty release on your tongue before swallowing with relish. Working him through his orgasm and the aftershocks, you’d hallowed out your cheeks on ever-slowing bobs as he jerked under you.

It wasn’t until he hissed out an “ _Ai, cara_ ,” giving your head a gentle shove, did you pop off with one last lap around his sensitive cockhead. He’d sighed, pulled you up, and cuddled you close then—his nose pressed into your hair before his searching mouth found yours. As he’d kissed you, his fingers had dipped once again between your legs, and he’d rumbled in pleasure when he found you still wet and soft.

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he made sure to hold your gaze as he sucked his slicked fingers into his mouth.

“I shall devour you now, _mia cara_ , yes?”

“Oh yes, Papa!” you’d sighed in response.

Now you lay on your back, legs splayed and resting on his shoulders as Papa traces your folds with his tongue. He makes sure to first tease your thigh creases before lightly running the tip of his tongue around your folds, then over them. When his tongue runs down your slit, you gasp at how close—yet so far—he is to your throbbing clit.

Chuckling, Papa points the tip of his tongue to plunge in and out of your hole.

“ _Ughn_ , Papa, _please_!”

He still doesn’t plunge his tongue between your heavy lips, but he presses the pad of a finger against your hole, and you feel yourself contract on reflex.

“Oh yes, Papa!”

Humming, he easily slips two fingers into you, and you groan as you clench around him, your fists now gripping the sheets tight. He continues his teasing quest around your cunt as his fingers first thrust in and out of you before curling up to tap at your G-spot. It feels good, but you need _more_ ; your clit pulsates in anticipation of being touched, and you feel yourself become wetter.

Papa moans—resting his head against your thigh for a moment—as he slides his fingers in and out of your wet hole before adding a third. You feel so filled, and your eyes roll back in your head as you grunt lowly.

“Does my little one like that?”

“Oh, Papa!”

Suddenly, his tongue is wiggling into your folds, and you near shoot off the bed when it makes contact with your clit. You tense, wondering if you’re going to cum right then, but the initial burst of sweetness subsides and leaves you throbbing with want. Moaning and thrashing like a porn star, you let papa swirl and tap and press his tongue onto your swollen nub. He knows just what you like, and you fight not to buck his mouth off of you.

His tongue is relentless—you’re sure his chin and neck must be coated in your slick—and you feel your orgasm hurtling toward you.

“Oh-oh, Papa … oh, I’m-I’m …”

Papa presses hard into your G-spot with his fingers as his tongue flicks furiously over your engorged clit. You reach the top of the hill … hover as you arch off the bed … then everything pulsates, and you cry out as you jerk to each electric wave of pleasure crashing over you.

As the aftershocks roll over you, you relax back into the bed, letting the feeling of Papa’s warm tongue slowly massaging your oversensitive clit lull you into a warm, hazy place. When his tongue disappears—his fingers, though, still gently thrusting—you’re forced to come back to the here and now.

“Again, _amore_? Or would you prefer Papa’s cock?”

Giggling as you stretch and luxuriate in the afterglow, you say, “Oh, _again_ , Papa. You have all night to fuck me.”

“ _Come desideri, dolcezza_.”


	25. DP – Mary x Dew x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> DP – Mary x Dew x F!Reader
> 
> You and the boys get up to some fun that really fills you up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Double P in V  
> Blow Jobs  
> Cunnilingus

When you’d seen the request in the Abbey’s unofficial “Backpage” website, you’d been intrigued. You _loved_ DP, but found most guys—while thinking the _idea_ of it was hot—got squeamish about “the other dick” in practice. Nothing like having one or both of your partners wilt at the critical moment. Once a year, you’ll try with your dildos … but it’s just not the same, and it makes your carpal tunnel flare up.

The ad had given you pause, however, because it was Dewdrop and Mary Goore putting out the request, and you’ve heard tales of their feral energy. Was this something they were serious about, or had they posted the ad as a drunken lark? Would they take care of you, or were you looking at time in the infirmary after?

Still, your pussy had clenched and your clit had throbbed, so you’d thought it couldn’t hurt to at least _talk_ to the gremlins. Shooting off a quick inter-Abbey DM, you’d replied, _Willing to discuss_ , before getting ready for bed. You’d just applied toothpaste to your toothbrush when your messenger had dinged with a response: _Conference Room “Nema” tomorrow @2pm._

* * *

You'd been surprised to find a line of Siblings waiting outside the small conference room, but it made you feel better—this seemed less like a drunken shenanigan than you’d feared. The chat with the boys, however, went exactly as you’d imagined: Mary’s eyes were hooded, and he used any opportunity to showcase his tongue as he spoke to you in double entendres; Dewdrop’s tail lashed back and forth as his eyes undressed you and as he asked you to recount your experience in detail.

When you’d asked why the ad, why didn’t they just have fun amongst themselves, they’d been happy to tell you that they wanted the challenge of a human. 

“Rainy’s always a good romp—”

“He makes the best fucking noises.”

“—but he takes it so easy.”

“Just lets us pound right into him!”

The two boys had caught gazes—eyes dilated, Mary biting his lip while Dew’s tongue hung out—and smiled wickedly at each other. You’d sworn you could smell the sudden musk permeating the room—including your own. When you’d cleared your throat, the two had whipped their heads back to you.

Mary had smirked. “So yeah. Fucking wanna tease ourselves. Find a nice fragile body to fill.” 

Dew had shown his fangs, saying, “Don’t worry. We won’t be gentle,” and your stomach had flipped.

When the chat was over, you’d thanked them, but declined their offer of seeing their cocks—the outlines were more than visible straining against their pants, and you hadn’t been certain you wouldn’t’ve sucked them both off if actually faced with their flushed, leaking members.

You were pleased—if not a little surprised—when they’d messaged you their formal invitation to play. They’d even offered a few “getting to know you” interludes, which you coyly agreed to. You’d left them all sore, covered in marks, and impatient to get to the main act.

* * *

The day finally arrives, and you’re a bundle of nerves from the anticipation. You have been using a dilator to stretch out your walls and even did a few “dry” runs with your dildos. Admiring the fading hickies and bite marks on your neck, you head out.

Mary and Dewdrop are already nude, cocks out and hard, when you arrive. You’re barely in the door before they’re undoing your robe and pressing into you—smearing their precum across your body—as their hands and mouths alight across your sensitive flesh. Dew’s tail slithers across your skin as Mary’s fingers travel down to your folds.

“Gotta taste that pussy, sweetness. Wanna get my tongue in you first.”

“Fuck yeah, Mare. Get her nice and slick for us,” purrs Dew as he latches onto your neck and his hands come around to tweak your nipples.

“You’ll get in there after too, nasty boy,” you say as you tilt your head.

“Heh. Mebbe.”

The three of you shift over to the bed and tumble onto it in a tangle of limbs. Mary’s quick to slide down your body for his prize while Dewdrop rests your head in his lap. While Mary uses his tongue and fingers liberally while eating you out, Dewdrop pinches your nipples, gropes your tits, and lightly runs his claws up and down your sides; a low rumble has started in his chest, and when you moan at one of Mary’s ministrations, he shoves the spade of his tail in your mouth.

“When he’s done, you’re gonna get our dicks nice and wet too, spitfire,” he rumbles as you as he swirls his spade around your tongue and down your throat.

“Fuck, Dew,” pants Mary as he swallows, “don’t make me bust a nut already.”

“Then stop touching your dick, imbecile.”

Groaning in frustration, you grab Mary by the hair and guide him back down to your cunt.

Dew licks your ear. “Aw yeah, that’s right, spitfire. Show him who’s boss.”

Between Dew’s manipulations and Mary’s clever tongue, you’re cumming in a burst of white-hot light; even when you come down, the hands and tongue don’t stop, and you thrash a little at the oversensitivity. Dew’s hands just hold you in place.

“Nuh-uh, spitfire. We gotta keep that fire stoked for us.”

They keep going until you’re squirming in pleasure again, and then Dewdrop manhandles you until his dick is in your face.

“Suck,” he commands, and you eagerly suck him down to the base. Dew groans and sinks his hands into your hair so he can pump you up and down his dick. You gasp when you feel his tail enter you, and you can hear the smirk in his voice when he says, “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You feel Mary come up behind you; his hands take over squeezing your tits and thumbing your nipples, and the feeling goes straight to your throbbing clit. By the time you cum again, Mary is tugging on your hair.

“C’mon, man—it’s my turn.”

“It’s your turn when I _say_ it is,” hisses Dew, but you feel your head being turned toward Mary all the same. 

You’re blinking through the tears in your eyes when Mary’s cock presses to your lips for entrance. His hand comes around the back of your head, but Dewdrop slaps it away.

“Enjoy the ride Goore,” he says as he shoves your head down onto Mary’s cock. Mary lets out a grunt, his hips thrusting up without restraint as you gag on his cock. Dew ruts into your ass in time, and you hear the sounds of them kissing wetly above you; you moan, clenching around Dew’s tail.

“Oh fuck, she’s getting off on this.”

“Of course she is—we’re fucking hot. Jesus, Dew—stop licking my face.”

“Tastes good.”

With them occupied, you let your hand wander down to your cunt, making yourself cum once more before Dewdrop pulls you off Mary’s cock. He whines, but doesn’t try to follow your mouth.

“Don’t worry, Mare. Wait ‘til you feel how juicy our girl is for you.” Dew’s tail pulls out of you, but his fingers swipe through your slit. “I’d say she was ready to take us both.” He sniffs his fingers before sucking them into his mouth. “Fucking ripe, too,” his rumbles.

“Oh fuck, _please_ ,” Mary whimpers as he flops around until he’s lying on his back. He holds his cock at the base in invitation. “Fucking _use_ me, sweetness.”

Taking a deep breath, then letting it out, you clamber onto Mary and hover above his cock. You take another steading breath as Mary trembles beneath you, and then you sink down on his cock. Moaning at the delicious tingle, you swivel your hips before grinding down into him.

“Shit fuck,” he hisses as his hands come up to dig into your waist. Dewdrop comes up behind you, but doesn’t spear you just yet.

“C’mon, Goore—get her nice and open for me. I wanna see her leaking. Try not to fucking nut.”

Eyes closed, tongue half stuck out, Mary begins to thrust up into you. Dew’s hands are all over your body as he scrapes his fangs along your neckline and shoulders.

“Oh fuck, oh yeah,” you moan out as one cock and four sets of hands light up your erogenous zones. Dew’s dick is pressing into the small of your back, and you can feel how much he’s dribbling.

It’s not long before a flush appears in a trail down Mary’s pale neck and chest (and you’re certain—hot and sweaty as you feel—that you must be pink and glowing as well), and you can feel the moistness where Dew’s chest is flush with your back. Suddenly, Dew’s warmth disappears from your back; you feel a thumb press right where Mary’s cock is snug in your cunt, and you let out a breathy _Oh_. Your muscles contract, and a grunt falls from Mary’s lips.

“All right, fuckers. I’m comin’ in.”

You quiver with nerves and excitement, and Mary tries to crane his neck around your body to see. After the sound of squirting lube, Dewdrop angles you forward to his liking, and then you feel the bed shift right before the blunt head of his cock pokes you. You breathe out, then in, trying to center and relax yourself. Mary’s eyes are wide, and his nails dig into you as Dewdrop’s hands manipulate Mary’s cock into submission.

It takes some care, a little adjusting, and multiple attempts before Dew’s cock finally pops past your opening and slides slowly into you. Mary tenses and cries out “Oh _fuck_ ,” and you clench your fists into the sheets, drooling unabashedly onto Mary’s sweaty chest. You can hear and feel Dewdrop panting into your nape as he tries not to hammer into you. Shaking with the effort to control himself, Dew begins to pump in and out of you.

There’s a high-pitched pulsing noise going off, and it takes you a moment to realize it’s you—lost as you are in the complete and utter sensation of being filled to the max. You don’t even move … you just let Dew fuck into you slowly—but steadily—snarling and growling, into your neck.

Mary’s eyes have rolled back into his head, and you can see the white of them through the slits in his lids; he’s panting and shaking as he lets Dewdrop do the work, punching out _FuckFuckFuckFuck_ with each thrust of Dew’s cock against his own.

“F-fuck—how’re ya doing, buddy?” pants Dew.

“So _fucking tight_ ,” groans Mary.

“ _So tight_ ,” agrees Dew.

You’re still drooling as sounds escape out of your mouth and tears stream down your face at the intensity of being stretched and crammed full of cock. There’s a roaring arousal between your legs—a fire set to consume you—so when hands pinch at your nipples, you nearly jerk out of your skin. You shudder in the pleasure that rolls through your body, and you feel the unyielding resistance when you try to clench.

Both boys hiss out some version of “Oh shit,” and Dewdrop’s hands clamp down on your hips.

“Jesus, spitfire—careful you don’t squirt us out.”

Unable to form words, you whine.

“Wanna take it up a notch?”

You nod your head vigorously as Mary says, “Oh god,” and then bites into the sheets. When Dew speeds up, arousal throbs through you.

“Yes-yes-yes, there-there-there,” you chant.

Mary is thrashing his head back and forth as Dew grunts into your ear. You feel your orgasm build hotly—starting down in your core—and you flail about as you cry out, “ _OhOhOh_.” It’s a low, throbbing orgasm that you feel deep in your bones—unlike the light, fluttery ones you had on Mary’s tongue—accompanied by a sensation of warmth.

“Oh shit— _oh shit_!” you hear from a universe away. “Did she just fucking _squirt_? Oh fuck, I’m gonna …” 

By the time you comprehend that Mary is grunting loudly as his hips can’t help but thrust up into you, you become aware that Dew has you locked in his arms.

“There you are, spitfire. Thought you were gonna buck right off.”

“Mmphb.”

Mary is still groaning and twitching when Dew starts back up.

“Fuck—I’m fucking close. Don’t even think of getting soft, Goore.”

“Oh shit … oh shit, _dude_.” Mary jerks under you, his eyes rolling wildly as Dew rubs his hard cock against Mary’s oversensitive dick. You just melt into Dew’s hold, swaying along on the low hum of your simmering desire as he slaps into you.

When Dewdrop finally cums with a snarl, his teeth sink into your shoulder, but you hardly care—the pain just adds to the cloud of arousal you’re floating on. You try not to slump forward when he lets go, but you fall a little before you catch yourself on your fists.

“Whoa there, sweetness,” says Mary as he grabs your arms to steady you. It feels like a profound loss when Dew’s cock then Mary’s slips out of you, so you just lay down on his chest.

“Aw shit, we busted her,” chuckles Dew as one of his claws traces down your spine.

“Heh, I know what’ll perk her up.”

You let Mary manhandle you onto your side. As he wiggles his head in between your legs, you let Dewdrop put your head in his lap.

“Fuck, that’s right,” Dew purrs as he runs his claws through your hair. “Rewards for taking it so well.”

Both of you moan—you when you feel Mary’s tongue massage your clit, and Mary when he gets a taste of what’s leaking out of you. Dew just chitters happily, no doubt waiting for his turn.


	26. Size Kink – Rain x Mountain x Swiss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Size Kink – Rain x Mountain x Swiss
> 
> Rain loves that stretch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anal DP

Rain is good to go—he’s gaping and shiny with lube. Swiss has reservations, but whatever Rainy wants, Rainy gets.

Swiss loves playing with the pair—let’s face it … Swiss loves playing with anybody—but when Mountain had asked him to help Rain satisfy his desire to be stretched to the max? Well, Swiss had been agog that Mountain’s horse cock wasn’t enough for that. He has no idea how the little Ghoul can be so forceful in the sack, yet shy enough to make Mountain— _Mountain_ of all Ghouls—do the asking, but it works for him.

Rain is panting, ass up on the bed, but there’s no mistake who in this room is in charge. Mountain’s chest is heaving as he loosely strokes his giant, lube-coated cock, and Swiss remembers what a bear taking it had been. Nice place to visit, but he wouldn’t want to live there.

Clenching into the sheets, Rain wiggles his ass. 

“C’mon Mounty. Wanna feel you. _Now_.”

“Yes,” Mountain rumbles in his bass. He positions himself behind Rain (softly stroking down his flank) before positioning his cock at his lube-slick hole.

Fangs distended over his plump lips, Rain’s head whips over his shoulder.

“Fill me up, big guy.”

With a practiced ease, Mountain begins to push into Rain, who pants and groans as the pressure increases. When the cockhead pops in audibly, Rain throws his head back and howls, but his eyes are rolling back in pleasure.

_Fuck, that’s hot_. Swiss shuffles forward, bending down to kiss Rain as his fingers stroke through his hair.

“So good, Rainy. So good,” Swiss coos. Mountain grunts as if in agreement and pushes forward a little more; Rain hisses, so Swiss reaches under and takes his cock in hand, giving it slow, loose strokes.

Rain moans, pressing his head back into the pillows.

Swiss continues jacking Rain as Mountain eases his cock in, and Rain rocks himself forward into Swiss’s fist, then backwards onto Mountain. Swiss idly wonders if Rain would suck his cock a little—get a little spit roast going—but abandons the idea when the Ghoul in questions tears the ever-living fuck out of the pillow on which he’s resting with his teeth.

Rolling his head to the side, Rain opens his eyes and fixes his gaze on Swiss.

“Help me up!”

“Yessir!” quips Swiss, saluting before he helps Rain up onto all fours.

Rain begins to rock back onto Mountain’s cock in earnest, and Mountain grunts—his hands digging into Rain’s hips—as Rain endeavors to impale himself faster. Swiss can see the conflict in Mountain eyes: the desire to have his whole-ass cock seated in Rain _right now_ is warring with the desire not to hurt his lover.

Caution finally wins, and he rumbles a low, “Slow,” as Rain huffs in annoyance.

“Here,” says Swiss as he grabs the lube and drizzles more where Mountain’s cock disappears into Rain; Swiss makes sure to smear the stuff into Rain’s crack, paying special attention to rub around where Rain’s dusky rim is stretched wide around Mountain’s cock.

Rain groans and rocks back, another inch of cock sliding into him, and Swiss watches in fascination as it pulses visibly.

It takes a bit more time—even as Rain snarls impatiently—but finally, Mountain’s hips are flush with Rain’s ass. The tall Ghoul is sweating and panting, but to his credit, his hips don’t thrust without permission—Swiss guesses he’s been punished before.

When Rain pants, “… more leverage …”, Swiss helps him press his palms against the wall, and Rain begins to impale himself on Mountain’s cock. Trembling, Mountain keeps still—his shaky legs locked at the knee—letting his lover use him like a toy. Since Rain’s head is pressed into the wall, Swiss occupies himself with once again curling a loose fist around Rain’s cock while he jacks his own.

Mountain lets out a huge breath of air when Rain suddenly stops, but otherwise remains still. Rain turns his head and looks as Swiss with lust-dark eyes. His lip curls, but when he opens his mouth, all that comes out is a growl.

“Now, Rainy?”

In response, Rain’s eyes roll back as his head lolls across his shoulders. Swiss hurries to coat his cock with lube, then tries his best to wiggle under Rain without dislodging him. It takes some careful maneuvering, but the 3 of them finally get into a suitable position.

As Mountain slowly pulls out, Rain whines and snarls, and Swiss can see his cock kicking and twitching. (Maybe he’ll let Swiss suck it later.)

“Ready, Rainy?”

“Fucking ready _yesterday_ … c’mon, wanna feel that stretch.”

When Swiss looks up at Mountain for confirmation, Rain grabs him by the jaw.

“Don’t look at him— _I_ say ‘when’ around here.”

Swiss smirks. “Yeah, I know, tiger.”

He’s gratified when Rain mashes his mouth into his, all sharp fangs and spit. When they taste each other's blood, it’s _on_ : Swiss has got to get his dick in something tight, and Rain rocks back into nothing, searching for their cocks. Swiss is so caught up in tangling with Rain’s tongue that he lets out a cry of surprise when Mountain takes him in hand.

With little ceremony, Mountain eases the tips of their cocks into Rain.

“Oh _shit_ ,” hisses Swiss as he feels the tightness around him and the press of Mountain. 

Rain lets out a long, low moan as he tries to slide down them both. “Oh fuck, _yeah_. That’s what I want. That’s the good stretch.”

This time when Swiss hears spitting and snarling, he finds the source is Mountain, and he wonders if the big guy is about to lose it.

“Fuck— _so big_ ,” moans Rain. “Oh fuck, love your cock so much. Yeah, jam it in there—I wanna feel like you’re splitting me in two.”

When they both slide home, Swiss clenches his fists in the sheets at the vice-like feeling around his cock; Mountain takes a steadying, rumbling breath before he starts thrusting into Rain and against Swiss. Rain starts chanting, “Oh fuck, oh yeah” as he gives little demi counter thrusts, and it’s all Swiss can do not to start jack hammering up into Rain himself. The grip around his cock is suddenly second to the way Mountain’s cock rubs against his sweet spot.

“Yeah, Mounty—just like that!” Rain cries out. “Wanna be wider than your fist when you’re done with me!”

Mountain is beginning to fuck a little faster than Swiss thinks is prudent, but he’s not the expert here. Rain is flushed, and his eyes are closed in ecstasy as he rocks down onto the cocks, his tail lashing wildly. 

“Oh fuck, love that pressure! Keep it going, Mounty—I wanna cum on your cock! Wanna cum from just being filled by your enormous cock.”

It should be insulting, but Swiss knows his role here; he’s just the supplement, and he’s more than happy to be used if it gets that rapturous look on Rain’s face and the normally cool Mountain all growly. So Swiss just lays back, content to watch the show above him as his cock is massaged on all sides.

“Oh shit—I’m close … _so close_ …” gasps Rain.

Mountain rumbles and starts snapping his hips forward.

“Just like that … just like that—oh, Lucifer! There-there-there …”

Rain suddenly freezes, and then he’s thrashing about and moaning as his cock kicks and starts shooting cum. Swiss gasps at the sight of Rain’s flushed cock twitching and covering his chest with his sticky release, and he can’t help but run his fingers through the substance so he can taste it. 

Momentarily lost in the salty taste of Rain around his tongue, Swiss is brought back into the here & now when he feels the appearance of Mountain’s knot bump against him. 

_Surely he isn’t …?_

“SHOVE IT IN SHOVE IT IN,” wails Rain, and Mountain does just that with a low grunt. 

Rain scrabbles at Swiss’s chest—leaving angry, red marks—but Swiss is transfixed by the way Mountain’s eyes are rolled back into his head and how his body shakes with the pleasure of having his knot in something tight and warm while he empties his load. Swiss was on the verge before, but the sight of his friends getting off—and the feeling around his own cock—have him on a runaway train that’s about to dive off the cliff.

He arches off the bed as he feels himself about to bust his nut, looking forward to that hot rush. His entire world narrows down to the sensitive part on the base of his cock when Rain suddenly fucking forces his forming knot into his channel as well. Swiss doesn’t know what sounds he makes (he’s sure, though, he spit everywhere) or how much he convulses; for a few minutes, all he knows is the blinding pleasure of the tight clamp around his swollen knot as it pulsates and throbs.

When he does come back to himself, Rainy is making joyful noises as he swivels his hips. Mountain is panting in the familiar way Swiss knows means he’s cum more than once. Swiss himself feels that he’s going to have a demi-orgasm, and soon he’s groaning his way through it.

He looks down at Rain’s cock, which is again twitching and letting out little spurts of cum, and _damn_. He’s known some Ghoulehs who could take two knots, but _holy shit_. He flops back into the sheets, relaxing into the hum of pleasure that Rain’s ministrations are drawing out of his cock.

The three of them groan and gasp their ways through a few more soft orgasms—Rain babbling the entire time about how fucking full his is with cock—before their knots deflate enough to slip out. By that point, Rain is swaying and looks about ready to pass out; Swiss—despite thinking how nice a cuddle would be at the moment—helps Mountain clean and care for Rainy in his lethargic state. 

(And in Swiss’s opinion, Rain could definitely easily take a fist right now).

Once Rain is all cleaned up and in his pjs (and Swiss sees the appearance of a plushie), Swiss helps Mountain get him between the sheets he had changed. 

He’s about to leave when Rain growls at him. “Here. _Now_ ,” he rumbles as he lifts the covers, and Swiss is more than happy to complete their little Ghoul pile with Rainy in the middle.


	27. Cuckolding – Papa I x Reader, Reader x Nameless Ghoul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cuckolding – Papa I x Reader, Reader x Nameless Ghoul
> 
> Papa knows what you need—even if that means a liaison.

Make no mistake: Primo can still _get it_ —he’s still got that good dick game. He’s got the experience and the skill to go with decades of pleasing lovers—the Emeritus brothers ain’t no pump and dump chumps! They serve a Church where the female orgasm is queen and lust is a favored sin.

But he’s no spring chicken, and while the flesh may be willing, the body is weak. His knees now only kneel for Lucifer, and his wrist requires a brace. His blood is thinning, and he now takes 1st nap and 2nd nap to keep up with you. He’s still a generous lover, but the Kama Sutra is a distant memory lest he fall and break a hip.

You’re quite content in Papa’s arms, even if you sometimes have to take care of yourself after he dozes off after a particularly invigorating love-making session. But his embrace is welcoming, and the smell of him—his sweet musk and incense—always puts you right at ease. So when he suggests **_It_** , you’re initially against the idea.

“Ah, succulent—I don’t mind. I just want to see you satisfied.”

“But, Papa! I’m _yours_. I am satisfied.”

“Keep it in mind, love?”

“Ok, Papa.”

You hadn’t wanted his words to get to you—hadn’t wanted to admit that … maybe … you wanted … a little more? A hard, relentless pounding … or fingers and a tongue that could go for hours. You’d still been hesitant to bring **_It_** back up, so you were a little relieved when your Papa had brought it up again.

“Any more thoughts on my proposal, succulent?”

He’d stroked your cheek, and you’d blushed, turning your head down.

“O-only if it's truly ok with you, Papa.”

“You say that as if I won’t also get something out of it.”

Oh.

Oh ho ho.

The Ghoul comes in wrapped in their robe. You’re waiting on Papa’s sumptuous bed in a robe of your own; Papa’s matches yours, but he’s in his plush armchair in the corner—and neither you nor the Ghoul make eye contact with him.

Smiling, you gesture the familiar Ghoul forward with a “come hither” motion. Smiling in return with their fanged teeth, your Ghoul disrobes before climbing onto the bed with you. Their skin is warm and smells faintly of campfire, which you find infinitely comforting. The two of you roll around in a tangle of limbs on the bed as your mouths meet and your bodies grind together.

You’re not supposed to acknowledge Primo, but out of the corner of your eye, you catch the movement of his fist on his cock. You moan into the mouth of your Ghoul—a feedback loop of you being aroused by Papa’s arousal at your own. Whether or not your Ghoul comprehends this, they are fully on board with the noises you’re making and with how you feel between your legs.

They reach down to pet you there, and when you do the same, you’re pleased to feel their mirrored excitement. You enjoy the feeling of your Ghoul’s fingers on you, bringing you closer to climax, and when you speed up your own hand, you’re pleased at the feeling of wetness you elicit. Rubbing, grinding, and kissing, the two of you bring each other to sticky, pulsating climaxes.

Through the afterglow, you and your Ghouls stroke and caress each other while murmuring sexy nothings: “Love it when you feel like this…” “You make me so wet when…” “Did you like when I did that to you? Yeah, you did.” “Love it when you make the sound in my ear.” “Oh please touch me like that, _yes_.”

Papa doesn’t make a sound, but if you strain to listen real close, you swear you can hear the swish of his hand as he strokes himself.

With all the groping and frottage, you both are quickly ready for round two. This time, you let your Ghoul in you, and they moan at the feeling of your tightness. The two of you move slowly at first—relishing in how the other feels—but as the heat between you increases, and the blood pools between your legs, you can’t help but transition into a more frenetic pace.

Nipples are tweaked, asses pinched, and lips smear down necks and across shoulders as the wetness between you both coats your thighs. Your Ghoul knows exactly what buttons to push, and you’re happy to let them drive the encounter. It’s long, sustained—just as you’d craved—and now you’re desperate to cum. They lap at the sweat on your skin as they play you perfectly to climax, and once you’re warm and sated, you’re happy to let them use your body to reach their own release.

Both finished—sticky with spend and sweat—you and your Ghoul remain embraced, sighing into each other’s skin. It’s only once your skin cools—and limbs begin to lose feeling—do either of you attempt to disentangle. With a chaste kiss, your Ghoul strokes through your hair and promises to see you again next week. You let your finger run down their arm as they slip off the bed.

Only once the Ghoul is gone—with the click of the door behind them—does Papa appear at the bedside. His robe hangs loosely at his sides, and though he’s obviously cleaned off his release, you can still see some oozing out of his soft cock.

“Do you want me to shower, Papa?” You know the answer, but you always ask, anyway.

“No, succulent … I want to feel them on you. Let Papa know how naughty you’ve been—and in our own bed, as well! Oh!” He covers his mouth in mock shock. “Shall I punish you? Would you like that?”

You giggle and wiggle around. “Oh yes, Papa! I think you should teach me a lesson!”

Pulling you gently into his lap, he playfully swats at your bottom with his slipper.

“You naughty, naughty creature! So bad!”

You laugh and squirm on his lap as the sole slaps against you, gasping when it hits just right. He smooths his hands over your ass, giving each cheek a grope. He may be soft right now, but you know soon enough he’ll be ready to give you round 3.

Yes, Papa may be slowing down—but he still knows how to satisfy his lovers.


	28. Praise Kink – Aether x F!Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Praise Kink – Aether x F!Reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blow Job

You’re on your knees as you run your lips up and down Aether’s shaft, hollowing out your cheeks as you go. He looks down at you with lust-glazed eyes, his tongue hanging out from between his fangs. Your one hand follows your mouth—spit dripping down your arm—as the other gently rolls his balls.

“Ah, that’s my good girl.” His hand strokes your cheek and pets through your hair. “You suck my cock so well, bunny. Look at how pretty your lips are stretched around me.”

You look up at him through your lashes as you twist your fist around the base of his cock where his knot will form and as you swirl your tongue around the tip of his cock.

“So good,” he groans as his eyes flutter shut. You close your own so you can concentrate on working his cock over. You try to mix up your strokes and your pace, but you make sure to press your tongue into his sweet spots.

When you feel his big hand on the back of your head, you look up at him once more. He’s panting—chest heaving—as he licks his lips.

“Can you take more of me, love?” You raise your eyebrow quizzically as you massage him with your tongue. “ _Fuck_. Can you be a good little bunny and swallow me down as far as you can? I’d be so pleased if you’d try.”

You hum in acquiescence and let him gently push your head down the length of his cock. When the tip hits the back of your throat, you let out a little noise of surprise, and Aether pauses. He strokes the back of your head.

“That’s very good, love. You’re doing so well. Just relax your jaw, bunny. That’s right—relaaaax your jaw and breath through your nose.”

Following his instruction, you try to take more of him in your throat. It’s a bit of a struggle—and you’re making half-gagging noises and little whimpers—but Aether continues to caress your head and coo praise to you. He pulls out enough that you can get a big breath in, and then he’s pressing back down your esophagus. This time he thrusts a little, and it’s all you can do not to panic and give into your gag reflex.

His moans and curses make your clit throb, though, and so you wait until you actually can’t take it anymore before tapping on his thigh. He lets you up immediately, the thumbs of his paws wiping away the tears from under your eyes as you suck in air.

“ _Good girl_! You took me so well, love! I’m so proud of how much you swallowed.” You lean into his touch, looking up at him adoringly. “So, so good. So deserving. Does my very good girl want to finish sucking my cock?”

“Yes, please,” you pant as you nod your head vigorously.

“Fuck—so eager to suck my cock. How’d I get so lucky to find the best girl around?”

Smiling, you give him a small shrug.

“Ok, bunny—open wide and get a treat.”

Rocking back on your heels, you open wide. Sighing, Aether guides his hard cock back into your mouth, and you can once again taste his precum.

“A little faster this time, hmm, love?”

You hum around him as you begin bobbing on and sucking his cock once more. Because you’re a good girl, you quicken your strokes, abandoning the hand on his balls for the leverage to speed up. Because you’re a _very_ good girl, you try to take him down your throat as far as you can as part of your bag of tricks.

Aether moans and grips his fingers tight into the back of your hair. He doesn’t push or guide your head, but the pressure is enough to remind you that he could fuck your face at any moment if he wanted to. He won’t, though—only naughty girls get their faces fucked.

He growls in warning and squeezes your shoulder when he’s about to cum. You bob faster, making sure to press the flat of your tongue into his sweet spot on the upstroke, and within moments you hear his stuttering moan right before you taste his release on your tongue. You catch a few spurts in your mouth before you pull his throbbing cock out of your mouth so you can rub the sensitive tip all over your face and lips; when you clamp your other hand over his forming knot, Aether lets out a choked groan—his hips twitching forward—and you make sure to get his spurting, sticky ropes to coat the soft skin of your face.

You know he’s noticed the state of your visage when he gasps in pleasure, his hand on your shoulder moving up to cup your jaw.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re amazing, bunny. So smart! You know what I like, and I don’t even have to ask.” He swipes the globs of cum from where they’re clinging to your eyelashes. Still loosely stroking his throbbing cock, you look up at him to find that he’s beaming down at you. “My wonderful girl. You’re so good to me.”

You bat your sticky eyelashes at him and open your mouth to show the cum pooled in the dip of your tongue. His jaw drops open and his eyes unfocus as he watches you roll your tongue back into your mouth and swallow with an exaggerated gulp. He huffs out a grunt when you open again to show him: _all gone!_

Nuzzling his softening cock, you ask, “Did I do good, Daddy?”

He chuckles, eyes glinting with mischief.

“So very good, love.” You grin up at him. “Now hop up on the bed … good girls get rewards.”


	29. [Redacted]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Day 29 is NonCon, so see below for link to oneshot.

See [next in series](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27257734/chapters/66590884). I have separated this out for tagging purposes.


	30. Nipple Play – Papa III x Reader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Papa fixates on one part of your body.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fingering  
> Nipple Clamps

Your body is a live wire. Your skin is a raw nerve.

Papa’s fingertips skim up and down the flesh of your sides as his tongue laps at your nipple and then his lips suck. There’s a clamp on your other nub, and his free hand works slowly between your legs.

“Ah, ah, Papa!” you gasp for not the first time.

He looks up at you, the desire in his mismatched eyes palpable, and grins. He unclamps the weight from your nipple, and the feeling floods back in. Panting as your nipple begins to throb, Papa applies the clamp to your other one, and you cry out at the sharp pain. His soft, warm mouth engulfes the free nipple, and you squirm at the dual sensations as his hand continues to slowly stroke between your legs.

You twitch your hips up into his touch, and he _tsks_.

“Do not make me take my hand away, little one.”

“ _Papa_ ,” you whine.

His touch keeps the fire stoked, but it’s not enough to truly get you there.

“You will cum from these—” he tweaks your nipple “—yes?”

You whimper. “Y-yes, Papa.”

“ _Bene_.”

He applies the barest of pressure with his teeth, and you moan as the feeling on your already throbbing nub sends a spark of pleasured pain between your legs. He keeps up the gentle massage with his fingers, and you pant into the pillow. His tongue flicks and laves at your nipple until the pulsing subsides, and then he rolls away from you, taking his touch with him.

“ _Ughn_ , **_Papa_ **…” you whimper as you suddenly find yourself bereft from his caresses.

“ _Patience_ , little one.”

You whine into the pillow, your hips finding nothing but air as you buck them up.

When he rolls back into you, you’re expecting the tease of his fingertips, but instead you howl out when the vibrations from the bullet come into contact with the clamped nipple.

“ _PapaPapaPapa_ ,” you chant as your legs kick out, not knowing whether you want more or less of this electric sensation on your abused nub.

The man himself just chuckles and reapplies his teasing touch in between your legs. He switches the vibe to your free nipple, and this time you cry out from how good it feels—so good that you’re sure Papa can feel you pulse under his touch. When you arch off the bed, his gentle lips place a soft kiss on your neck where you like it, and you stutter out a grunt.

“Yes, _sí_ … just like that.”

Once you relax back into the bed, the toy once again assaults the clamp, and Papa attaches his lips once more to your unencumbered pebbled nub. You can’t help but twitch your hips into his touch, but this time he doesn’t admonish you—he knows you can’t help it.

When it’s time to transfer the clamp again, Papa lets the vibe rest just above the sweet spot between your legs; you’re so distracted by this blatant contact that you’re taken wholly by surprise when he pinches the clamp to release, then lets it fall shut again.

You yelp, but he shushes you as he repeats this several times. It hurts, but it also feels _so fucking good_ , and you bow off the bed—your fingers digging into his thread count as your sex throbs dangerously. You’re _so close_ …

And then Papa removes the toy. Flopping back onto the bed, you whine in frustration, but you hardly have time to complain before he trades the clamp to your other nipple, and he presses the vibe into your hot, throbbing one.

Again, you don’t know if you love it or hate it, but your continued arousal is a palpable thing. You’re actually getting close now, and every application to your erogenous zones, every touch to your sensitive skin, is making all your blood pool between your thighs.

Your face is hot, and the blood is roaring through your ears. Papa is using his tongue, his fingers, the bullet, and the clamp in an ever-changing exchange, but at this point, it’s all one bubble of pleasure you can’t escape. You feel yourself pulse, and you know it’s going to happen … that your climax is here.

“P-Papa—” you gasp, and then there’s a sharp pressure on your nipple. Whether it’s his teeth or the clamp—you can’t tell at this point—but it’s enough to set off the dominoes, and soon the pressure of his fingers are heavy on your swollen arousal.

When you cum, it’s a hot, red thing—your sex and your body spasming as the build-up from hours of teasing come crashing down in an intense wave. You lose yourself in it, hardly knowing how you sound or what you say.

Once your climax finally subsides, you can’t tell if you want to go again, or if you want to curl up in Papa’s arms and sleep for a million years. You realize he’s been peppering your skin with kisses, and when he senses you relax, he sighs contentedly. The press of his erection into your hip becomes a beacon, but all he does is lick your release off his fingers.

“Rest now, yes? We go again later.”

He places two more kisses on your eyelids, and you’re happy enough to wiggle into his embrace.


	31. Domestic Discipline (Wildcard) – Dewdrop x Sisters of Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Domestic Discipline (Wildcard) – Dewdrop x Sisters of Sin
> 
> When Dew misbehaves, he finds Imperator a harsh mistress.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bjs  
> restraints  
> orgasm delay/denial  
> overstim

It’s quiet in the Chapel in the early morning and peaceful as the dark blue of night slowly fades into a dusty grey dawn. It’s when Dewdrop likes to jack off under the altar the most. Sure, hiding under there during Mass or even the height of the day has the added bonus of the excitement of getting caught—but he also loves being able to relax and take his time … really think about where he wants to shoot his spunk.

What he doesn’t expect is to actually _be_ caught.

There he is—in the warm glow of pleasure—rubbing one out, when all of a sudden the ceremonial cloth is yanked up, and the stern visage of Sister Imperator fills his line of sight.

“What are you doing?” she demands, her brows furrowed.

Dewdrop yelps and tries to cover his junk.

“Whacking off _again_?” She grabs his ear, ignoring his hisses of protest, and yanks him out from under the altar. He swipes at her with his claws—his hard cock bobbing—but this isn’t her first rodeo, and she stays well clear of his talons.

When she pushes him onto the hard wood of the pew, Dewdrop just huffs and crosses his arms—no longer caring about his modesty.

“Thought lust was sin,” he grumbles.

“And you can lust in your own room. Not on our profane altar.”

Dew tilts up his chin. “What? S’not like it isn’t usually covered in jizz.”

Imperator throws up her hands. “Don’t compare our rituals to your base fumbling.”

He snorts, a half smirk on his face, his tail swishing languidly. “Whatever, lady.”

Crossing her arms, Sister Imperator looks down her nose at him. The two lock eyes in a battle of wills, but it’s only when she herself smirks does Dew frown and break first.

“What?”

“You know what, Gremlin.”

He squints at her, but when she just arches an eyebrow, he makes a _tetch_ noise and looks away.

“You don’t gotta be _mysterious_. Fucking _what_?”

A grin spills across her face, reminding Dew that for as preternatural as she looks, she’s seen some shit.

“You’ve violated your terms.”

For a second—just a second—Dew goes still; then he slumps back into the pew.

“Yeah, and?”

“You know what that means.”

He shrugs.

She leans forward and grabs him by the chin, forcing him to look up at her.

“Do. You. Know. What. That. Means.”

He sighs. “It means punishment,” he grumbles.

“Don’t you huff at me, _ghoul_. You’re the one who agreed to it.”

He leans back, legs splayed and arms draped over the backrest. “Whatever, I’ll take a few spankies with Copia.” He grins, and his sharp teeth show. “Maybe he’ll use his cane. I like his cane.”

When Imperator leans down and boxes him in with her arms, he lets out a surprised noise.

“Oh no, Gremlin. Your punishment is at the discretion of _any_ acting senior clergy member, and today that’s _me_.” She gives him a grin of her own, baring her own set of pearly whites.

Heart sinking, Dewdrop gulps.

***

Dewdrop is not expecting to be restrained to a chair and centered at the end of the aisle. As they wait for the willing Sisters to trickle in, he has to begrudgingly give the old lady credit for being creative, at least.

“All right, Sisters,” Imperator booms when all have taken seats, “as you know, we are here because our little fire ghoul has been acting out again. You have agreed to help exact his punishment. Does anyone want to leave?”

Dewdrop looks out at the small sea of Sisters and waits for them to scurry away … but they all look at him hungrily. _Maybe they’ll be open to a punishment of their own later._ His flagging cock fills again, and the movement doesn’t go unnoticed; a few Sisters titter, and when Imperator turns to see what the fuck he’s up to now, she just rolls her eyes.

“As you can see, Sisters, you have your work cut out for you.”

She gives the tip of his dick a little flick with her finger, and Dew hisses in consternation.

“Watch the goods, lady.”

“Your dick has been through worse. Spare me.”

As the first Sister approaches, Dewdrop can’t help but pant and smirk at her; her lips are plump, and her curves are banging even through the habit—Dew strains a little in the restraints at the thought of what he could do with such a delicious morsel.

“Use your tongue,” he quips as she sinks to her knees in front of him, and she winks.

When those plump lips envelop his cock in wet heat, he moans—the sound echoing off the high ceilings. Oh, she’s good—she takes him all the way down in a practiced motion and flats her tongue against the underside on her way back up. Bound as he is, he can’t thrust or grasp her head, so he shows his enjoyment with the sounds that come out of his mouth. 

He’d been close before—when he was jacking off—so he's brought to the edge again in an embarrassingly quick time as he feels the tight of her throat around his cockhead again and again. When the sweet Sister presses her nose into his thicket and swallows, he feels his cock pulse.

And that’s when she pops off him.

Dew groans, his head thunking back into the chair as he watches the Sister wipe off her mouth with the back of her hand. She gives him another wink as she flounces off.

“Thank you, Sister,” says Imperator. “You may be excused from chores today.”

“Fuck,” spits Dew. Even expecting it, he’d still lost himself in the pleasure of her talented mouth, forgetting until the end that he wasn’t allowed to cum. His balls ache in protest as he waits for Imperator to count down the minutes until the next Sister.

Dewdrop quickly loses track of the time. It could be a half an hour, it could be two hours. All he knows is a parade of moist, pliant mouths around his cock, licking his tip, and lapping at his balls. He told himself he wouldn’t beg, but after the fifth Sister pulls off just before he can cum, Dewdrop is a whining, pleading mess. His cock is throbbing, his balls are blue, and he thinks there’s more precum than spit now dribbling down his shaft.

He tries to see how many Sisters there are left, but his eyes are filled with tears, making everything blurry. 

“ _P-please_ … _Seestor_ …” he pants, but there is no clemency. Just the swollen arousal between his legs as another mouth wraps around him to grant a few minutes of relief before leaving him in unsated agony.

When the humming between his ears stops and the tears clear from his eyes, Dewdrop can see that the Chapel is empty. His dick is half hard and purple, and it kicks with every insistent pulse of arousal. There’s a loud clap in his face, and he startles. Canting his head, he again meets the stern visage of Sister Imperator.

“I think that’s enough for now, ghoul.”

Dew means to say, “Fuck you,” but all the comes out is a whine.

“Yes, yes, it’s very sad. Just one more thing and you can go.”

He blinks stupidly at her as he watches her squirt a dollop of lotion onto her palm. At that, he perks up—his back straightening and his tongue lolling out. When her slick fists wrap around him, he howls at the sensation, which is all at once exactly what he wants, but way too much for his tormented cock.

She jerks him hard and fast, her gaze locked off in the distance and her bracelets jangling with each harried stroke. Dew wants soft and smooth to ease the burning arousal, and her touch is just more agony even though it’s hurtling him to what he hopes is some fucking relief.

When he does cum—hisses and spitting—he cums _hard_. He thinks he may even see his Master’s nemesis as he feels his hot spurts of cum shoot through his dick and the waves of pleasure pulsing in purple sparks behind his vision. _Joke’s on her_ , he thinks as his eyes roll back and his toes and tail curl like he was being electrocuted.

He slumps for the first time in hours(?), enjoying the warm afterglow and the feeling of empty balls.

Except.

Wait.

Sister Imperator’s hand keeps going. He’s _finished_ , and she’s _still_ jacking him hard and fast even though she _must know_ he’s cum. Her hand is _covered_ in it for Lucifer’s sake!

“S-sister. Sister … I-I’m d-done …” He starts to jerk and twist against his bounds to get away from her unrelenting touch on his oversensitive dick.

Only at his words does she turn her head back to him.

“Stop whining and take your punishment like a big boy.”

Mewling, Dew sinks back into the chair and complies.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's a wrap, guys! I hope you enjoyed the ride 😉😚
> 
> I'm now pnna sleep for a million years 🤣💤


End file.
